group and rode off; but I had not counted on the idleness of Fuentes, for, before I had gone a hundred yards, he had overtaken me.
"I was perhaps wrong," he said, "to interfere in this affair, and to prevent you from lodging a bullet in the head of that ill-looking knave; for, judging from the revengeful look he cast at you, I presume the first stroke of a knife you will receive will be from his hand."
"Do you think so?" I replied, rather startled at this unpleasant prediction.
"I yielded, in truth, too readily to my first impulse," continued Fuentes, who seemed in a reverie. "What if we went back?" he said. "You might then resume the affair at the point at which you left it, and, in case of need, I would help you."
It was quite clear that Fuentes regretted having let slip this nice opportunity for a quarrel. I dryly refused his offer, and thought to myself that, decidedly, his second impulse was worse than his first.
"You won't! Well, it's no great matter. After all, who cares for a knife-thrust more or less? I have received three in my time, and am not a bit the worse."
I did not deem it necessary to make any reply to this remark, which did not place my guide's character in a very favorable light, and cut short his revelations by asking him some questions about the mine whose buildings were coming gradually into sight as we approached.
