“So you know my name?” he queried, with a faint tinge of surprise.
“Just as well as you know mine,” replied Benton. “We’ve been keeping tabs on you and your gang just as you have on us. You didn’t know that you were followed the other night, did you? You didn’t know that one of our men concealed in the bushes heard your plans and saw you shoot one of your men, did you?”
Ramirez gritted his teeth, and a smothered oath came from his lips.
“You see we’re onto you,” said Benton, “and that’s how it came about that we had this little surprise cooked up for you tonight. Too bad that you didn’t find us sound asleep, wasn’t it? That’s your long suit, you know, creeping into places where people are asleep. You remember how you worked it when you tried to steal the papers from my tent.”
“It’s a lie,” ejaculated Ramirez sullenly.
“Well, you’re an expert liar and ought to know,” retorted Benton. “But get on with what you want to say and then clear out. You’re a blot on the landscape and it makes me tired to look at you.”
“These are big words,” sneered Ramirez, “but they are only what you Americanos call the bluff. We hold your lives in our hands, just like that,” and he snapped his fingers.
“Really?” answered Benton. “Now that’s news to me. But perhaps you have advance information. What makes you think you have a strangle hold on us?”
“You have only five men, besides a negro and he doesn’t count,” replied Ramirez. “I have twenty, four times as many.”
“You had twenty perhaps,” said Benton, “but I think you lost a couple of them a little while ago. And I shouldn’t wonder but what you’d lose more before the night is over. And remember, Ramirez, that the men behind me are white, while your rascals are mostly half breeds like yourself. You’ve seen enough of white men in San Domingo to know what that means.”