“Now by the good saints——!”
“The good saints are better off your lips, señor!” cried the fray angrily.
Neophytes had been crowding about, drawn by the quarrel. The caballero whirled upon them, to find some grinning. His hand dropped to his sword-hilt.
“The road stretches toward the south, señor,” the fray resumed. “And we are crowded here in San Juan Capistrano.”
“You are ordering me away, perhaps?”
“I am leaving it to your good judgment to go.”
“I am not a man to be trifled with, fray. This discourtesy is like to cost you dear!”
“I pay my debts, señor. If it costs me, I pay.”
“You refuse to respect the Governor’s pass?”
“I refuse to recognise your right to have it,” the fray replied. He turned about and started inside the storehouse. The caballero took a quick step forward and clutched the other by the shoulder and whirled him around.