“She is the daughter of Hawkworth,” said Torres.
He did not want them to know this, but there was no way out of it.
“Hawkworth’s daughter! So you stole her, eh? You poor fool! If I was Hawkworth I’d flay you and use yore hide for a saddle cover. But where is she?”
“Who knows?” laughed Gonzales. “She will be here at the wedding.”
“At my wedding,” corrected Torres. “I demand that I have the right to marry her. Didn’t I bring both of them here?”
“Both of ’em?” wondered Baldy. “F’r God’s sake, what’s the idea of bringin’ two?”
“Her mother came also.”
Baldy threw back his head and laughed loudly.
“Well, he started in right, boys; he took mamma along. Now the question is who will marry her? What’ll yuh do, draw straws or roll the dice? Yuh can’t fight it out. Torres is too small.”
“A knife makes us even, señor,” said Torres stiffly.