"Go and proclaim it, then.

Tell the San Vincente men, and the Las Uvas, and all the other vaqueros." Valencia, grinned and departed, leaving behind him in the loose sand tracks more than three feet apart to show how eager was his obedience; and Dade sat down upon a dead log that had been dragged to the Picardo camp-fire, to consider how this new phase of the affair would affect the temper of the people who owned such warm hearts and such hot heads.
A fiesta, with the duelo fought openly under the guise of a contest for the medal and a prize which was well worth any man's best efforts--surely, Don Andres was wily, as Valencia said.

But with all the people of the valley there to see, their partisanship inflamed by the wine of festivity and the excitement of the sports themselves--what then?
Dade thoughtfully rolled a corn-husk cigarette, and tried to peer into the future.

As it looked to him, he and Jack were rather between the devil and the deep sea.

If Jack were beaten, they would be scorned and crowed over and humiliated beyond endurance.