If it is necessary to fight for the Senor Allen--I am also his friend." "You are right.

There shall be no fighting." Dade started and glanced at Jose, standing beside him.

"If the Senor Allen thinks himself the best, surely it is I, who hold the medalla that calls me el vaquero supremo, who have the right to question his boast; not you, amigos!" "Who's the best vaquero, the bravest and the best in California ?" queried a voice--the voice of the singer, who had come up with others to see what was going on here.

And at his elbow another made answer boldly: "Don Jose Pacheco!" Jose smiled and lifted his shoulders deprecatingly at the tribute, while fifty voices shouted loyally his name.

Dade, pressing his hand upon Valencia's shoulder, led him back into the dancing shadows that lay between the fires.
"Let it go," he urged.