Don Audre Ruiz took another step forward and sneered in the face of Barbados. “Caballeros are not aware of the existence of such a thing as fear!” he declared. “If there is no other way, put down your pack of cards. But if you have courage and the spirit of fair play, let me fight it out with any two of your crew of fiends—a dagger against long blades.”
“Do I resemble a fool?” Barbados requested to know. “Have I but half a mind? Run a needless chance when we have you powerless already? Ha! A caballero might do such a fool thing, but I am not a caballero.”
“A blind man could see that,” Don Audre retorted.
“Ha! More of your insults and I’ll roast the lot of you! Line up! Here are the cards.”
Barbados put the greasy pack down on the end of the bench and stood back, folding his great arms across his chest. Don Audre Ruiz glanced around at his comrades, and they began forming the line. Sergeant Gonzales, feeling a bit out of place, dropped back to the end. And then the line moved forward, and the first man turned a card and saw that it was a ten, and passed on.
One by one they advanced to the bench, picked up a card, showed it to Barbados, and moved forward again, playing with death, but with inscrutable faces.
“Ha!” the pirate chief cried. “Fortunate caballeros, eh? But one of you must draw a deuce soon. And then my men will have rare sport. We’ll see whether a caballero of gentle blood will squeal and squirm when the hot flames lick at him. We’ll let the women torment him first, and the children! Well— Ha!”
Barbados suddenly bent forward, an evil smile upon his face. Don Audre had reached the bench and had turned over his card—the deuce of spades!
Don Audre drew in his breath sharply, but his face gave never a sign of emotion. The others crowded forward.
“Ha!” Barbados shrieked. “It is well done and appropriate! You are their leader, señor, and possibly will set them an example how to die. For you we will make the fire hotter and the torment longer. We’ll see how long you can live.”