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Chapter 9

           Foraword,foronelittleword,hefelthewouldhaveknelt,cringed,grovelledonthefloorbeforethedrowsy,consciousstareofthosefixedeyeballsstartingoutofthegrimy,dishevelledheadthatdroopedverystillwithitsmouthclosedaskew.Thecolonelgroundhisteethwithrageandstruck.Theropevibratedleisurelytotheblow,likethelongstringofapendulumstartingfromarest.ButnoswingingmotionwasimpartedtothebodyofSenorHirsch,thewell-knownhidemerchantonthecoast.Withaconvulsiveeffortofthetwistedarmsitleapedupafewinches,curlinguponitselflikeafishontheendofaline.SenorHirsch’sheadwasflungbackonhisstrainingthroat;hischintrembled.Foramomenttherattleofhischatteringteethpervadedthevast,shadowyroom,wherethecandlesmadeapatchoflightroundthetwoflamesburningsidebyside.AndasSotillo,stayinghisraisedhand,waitedforhimtospeak,withthesuddenflashofagrinandastrainingforwardofthewrenchedshoulders,hespatviolentlyintohisface.

           Theupliftedwhipfell,andthecolonelsprangbackwithalowcryofdismay,asifaspersedbyajetofdeadlyvenom.Quickasthoughthesnatcheduphisrevolver,andfiredtwice.Thereportandtheconcussionoftheshotsseemedtothrowhimatoncefromungovernablerageintoidioticstupor.Hestoodwithdroopingjawandstonyeyes.Whathadhedone,SangredeDios!Whathadhedone?Hewasbaselyappalledathisimpulsiveact,sealingforevertheselipsfromwhichsomuchwastobeextorted.

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