"I'm not afraid of him," boasted the American, but his voice fell.
"I am," differed Culvera frankly. "Ramon is fond of Ramon, so he chooses a safe time to pay his debts—and he does not advertise in advance that he is going to settle."
"Bah! You sit still and do nothing. But I—By God! I'll not stand it. He has given it out he will be married Saturday. We'll see about that. Maybe he'll be buried that day instead."
The dark eyes of the Mexican swept him with a sidelong glance. If he could do it without incurring responsibility himself, he was very willing to spur on the fierce passion of this man.
"Be careful, señor. Pasquale is dangerous."
"You know he is dangerous—to Ramon Culvera. Why don't you strike and be done with it?"
"The time is not ripe. Some day—perhaps—" He let a shrug of his shoulders finish the sentence for him.
"It's always mañana with you Mexicans," sneered Harrison with a savage lift of the lip. "You want to play it safe all the time. Why don't you take a chance?"
"I play my own cards, señor," returned Ramon equably.
"You play 'em darned close to your stomach. Me, I go out on a limb oncet in a while."