"Why don't we ride?" he asked, for the Blackguard was leading both horses, tied head to tail.
"Because horses weren't built to carry a weight down hill. Their knees are weak."
Said the Tenderfoot fatuously, "But you're a Spaniard, they say."
"And what of that?"
"I thought Spaniards were always beastly cruel."
Yesterday the Blackguard would have struck any man living for saying as much. Now he grinned.
"You're improving, Charlie. You'll be getting damaged presently for cheek. If I were all Spaniard I'd ride down here at a gallop. I'd ride over you to begin with, just to see the blood squirting. As it is, the Spanish end of me isn't over safe to fool with, though the English end of me rather fancies your confounded impudence."
"So you're half English?"
"My mother was English."
"Oh!"