“I won’t pay a red cent more.”
Bright Tooth shot forward, stooped and made a clutch at Hi’s rein. The yellow horse shied away from him, so that he missed his clutch and nearly fell. Hi, too, was nearly off. He recovered first. He dropped his right hand to the pocket where he kept his knife. He poked the end of the knife from within the pocket towards Bright Tooth, as though it were a revolver muzzle. He had read somewhere of men shooting through the pocket. He called out, “All right, old sport, I’ve got you covered. Cuidado.” He did not know what cuidado meant; but he had heard the third officer in the Recalde use the word as an alarm note. He saw Bright Tooth whip out a knife with a blade a foot long, sharp on two edges and spear-pointed.
They looked at each other a few feet apart. Hi enjoyed it, because Bright Tooth did not attack.
“You pay another sovereign,” Bright Tooth said. There was about Bright Tooth a sort of suggestion of a rush preparing.
“Clear out,” Hi said, “clear right out of it. Get back where you belong.”
“You give the bad money,” Bright Tooth said; there was a whine in his voice. Hi edged towards him; he edged away.
“Clear out.”
Bright Tooth cleared out. He turned, in an anxious manner, to a point ten yards away. As Hi turned after him, he retreated hurriedly for fifty or sixty yards; then, as Hi still slowly followed, he retreated further.
“You keep where you are. Don’t you try to follow me,” Hi called. He tapped his pocket, and added, “This is what you’ll get, if you try any monkey-tricks with me, my son.”
He watched Bright Tooth for half a minute; then, as he seemed not disposed to try any monkey-tricks, he turned again upon his way through the woodland across the puddings of the cactus. Whenever he looked back he saw Bright Tooth following. If he paused, Bright Tooth paused. If he turned back, Bright Tooth turned back. When he went on, Bright Tooth followed.