"When a fellow don't know how to use these things," he said,
petulantly, "he ought to keep away from them. Tell that gentleman so
when you next see him."
The proprietress answered with a grunt, and Leandro sat down to
receive general congratulations upon his courage and his coolness;
everybody wanted to treat him.
"This Valencia was beginning to make too much trouble, anyway," said
one of them. "Did as he pleased every night and he got away with it
because it was Valencia; but he was getting too darned fresh."
"That's what," replied another of the players, a grim old jailbird who
had escaped from the Ceuta penitentiary and who looked just like a
fox. "When a guy has the nerve, he rakes in all the dough," and he
made a gesture of scooping up all the coins on the table in his
fingers--"and he skips."
"But this Valencia is a coward," said Pastiri in his thick voice. "A
big mouth with a bark worse than his bite and not worth a slap."
"He was on his guard right away. In case of accident!" replied
Besuguito in his queer voice, imitating the posture of one who is
about to attack with a knife.
"I tell you," exclaimed El Pastiri, "he's a booby, and he's scared so
stiff he can't stand."
"Yes, but he answered every thrust, just the same," added the
lace-maker.
"Yah! Did you see him?"
"Certainly.
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