“Apriétate viejo! apriétate míralo! ya se ladea!” cried again one vaquero.
“Creo que el viejo escuata va chispo,” said the other.
“Que es eso? A que vienen acá? Quien los convida? Cállense la boca, no sean malcreados, Vallense!” said Victoriano, turning to them in great indignation.
This rebuke and imperative order silenced them immediately, and not understanding why these gentlemen were having all that fun, and did not laugh, nor wished any one else to laugh, quietly turned and went home.
Darrell's horse now came to a hollow made by the old bed of a brook where the road passed diagonally. To gallop down hill was too much equestrianism for the pinioned rider; he began again to topple to one side. Quick as a flash Victoriano darted forward, and grasping the bridle with one hand, caught with the other the body of Darrell, which having entirely lost balance, was toppling over like a log.
Gabriel immediately gathering the reata quickly in successive loops, all of which he hung on the pommel of his saddle, came to Darrell's side.
“I'll take that lazo off, Mr. Darrell, if you permit me,” said Gabriel, very quietly, when Victoriano had straightened him on the saddle, and he had again a perpendicular position.
“Yes, damn you, and you'll pay for it, too!” was Darrell's courteous reply.
“Very well, but don't be abusive. Use better language; and if you want to fight I'll accommodate you whenever you wish, with any weapons, except the tongue,” Gabriel answered.
“I suppose you think a lazo is a very genteel weapon. It is good enough for cowardly, treacherous greasers,” said the irate Darrell, eager to be as insulting as possible.