“What do you mean, Mr Blew?” demands the Spaniard, his eyes betraying anger, with some uneasiness.
“No use your losin’ temper, Gil Gomez. You ain’t goin’ to scare me. So you may as well keep cool. By doin’ that, and listenin’, you’ll larn what I mean. The which is, that you and Hernandez have no more right to them creeturs in the cave than any o’ the rest of us. Just as the gold, so ought it to be wi’ the girls. In coorse, we can’t divide them all round; but that’s no reason why any two should take ’em, so long’s any other two wants ’em as well. Now, I wants one o’ them.”
“And I another!” puts in Davis.
“Yes,” continues Blew; “and though I be a bit older than you, Mr Gomez, and not quite so pretentious a gentleman, I can like a pretty wench as well’s yerself. I’ve took a fancy to the one wi’ the tortoise-shell hair, an’ an’t goin’ to gi’e her up in the slack way you seem to be wishin’.”
“Glad to hear it’s the red one, Blew,” says Davis. “As I’m for the black one, there’ll be no rivalry between us. Her I mean to have—unless some better man hinders me.”
“Well,” interpolates Striker, “as ’twas me first put the questyun, I ’spose I’ll be allowed to gi’e an opeenyun?”
No one saying nay, the ex-convict proceeds:
“As to any one hevin’ a speecial claim to them weemen, nobody has, an’ nobody shed have. ’Bout that, Blew’s right, an’ so’s Bill. An’ since the thing’s disputed, it oughter be settled in a fair an’ square—”
“You needn’t waste your breath,” interrupts Gomez, in a tone of determination. “I admit no dispute in the matter. If these gentlemen insist, there’s but one way of settling. First, however, I’ll say a word to explain. One of these ladies is my sweetheart—was, before I ever saw any of you. Señor Hernandez here can say the same of the other. Nay, I may tell you more; they are pledged to us.”
“It’s a lie!” cries Blew, confronting the slanderer, and looking him straight in the face. “A lie, Gil Gomez, from the bottom o’ your black heart!”