Marianne glanced away, embarrassed, as people are when another reveals a dark and hidden portion of his character.
"You see ?" said Cordova, "you would not be happy in the corral with him, eh ?" He rolled a cigarette with smiling lips as he spoke, but all the time his black eyes burned at the chestnut.

He seemed to Marianne half child and half old man, and both parts of him were evil now that she could guess the whole story.

Cordova campaigned through the country, racing his horse at fairs or for side bets.

For two reasons he kept the animal systematically undernourished: one was that he was thereby able to get better odds; the other was that only on a weakened Alcatraz would he trust himself.

At this she did not wonder for never had she seen such almost human viciousness of temper in a dumb beast.
"As for running, senorita," continued Cordova, "sometimes he does very well--yes, very well.