CHAPTER XXI
Threats of Torture
This remark of Phil’s came near to being the last one that he would ever make. With a snarl like some ferocious animal, Espato leaped forward and struck him full in the face. Phil reeled at the blow, stumbled and would have fallen save that he came into dizzying contact with a great tree directly behind him.
Against this support he leaned, praying for strength to meet whatever horrors might be in store for him. He had angered the villainous Espato. Now he must pay the price.
The chief of the Mexicans came close to him, his lips drawn back from his strong white teeth in a snarl. His face was convulsed with fury.
“Dog, fool of an Americano,” he shouted, shaking his fist beneath Phil’s nose. “You think to taunt Espato in his stronghold, eh? Dios, you shall taste of his vengeance. Yess.”
He struck Phil again and the latter ground his teeth in impotent fury. If he could only get his hands free. Just for one little moment!
Espato must have read his thoughts, for he laughed softly, gloatingly.
“Ah,” he said, his voice once more gentle and drawling. “The Americano wish to have his bonds cut, eh, so that he may fight Espato? No. That is not Espato’s way.”
“No, you blackguard,” cried Phil, furiously. “I know well it isn’t your way to give a fellow a fighting chance. Take these ropes off my hands and I’ll fight you unarmed.”
“Is he not courageous, the Americano,” sneered Espato while the grins deepened on the faces of his followers. “But you will need all of your courage, little one, never fear. Before we get through with you my game cock, you will be crying aloud for mercy. Where will your fine courage be then, Americano?”