The Wichita daily eagle. [volume] (Wichita, Kan.) 1890-1906, 1891-12-24

| wild storm of dust, steam and roars at
| one side of the ring, and a splendid Anda-
! iusian bull darted through doorway,
eager for battle and srorting defiance in
every direction.
''Toro bravadot" resounded from al
parts of the huge audience and every ont
settled down to enjoy lively combat, in
which. haply, half dozen horses might be
gored to death and a picador or two be
! mortally injured. ''Toro bravadop'
The bull. brave as he was, soon had SUI
ficient to engage his attention. He rushed
headlong at the foremost picador, who
managed TO avoid him only just in time,
while dozen banderillos were quivering
in the hide of the badgered bull. Now,
take care, my toredas, for the blood Of old
Andalusia is boiling in yonder warrior,
and he will never surrender while he can
keep his feet!
Needless to tell that TO the men capering
nimbIy about the ring. They recognized
the fighting spirit in the lowered head, the
blazing eyes and the paving hoofs of their
foe. and they did not underrate its quality
an iota. So they tormented and tired him
by offering their wretched steeds as tar
gets for his horns, and stuck banderillos
into him until he was mass of ribbons.
Six horses were dead, one picador was IA
tally wounded, and three others were only
too glad to escape from the scene. He was
glorious bull. He had afforded untold
delight to the onlookers, and to none more
than the pretty, innocent looking young
girl seated just below Weston Sharpleigh.
Toro bravado!
A flourish of trumpets! The matador!
Elegantly attired. clean, neat, in the
finest of white linen, and with a rich silk
sash encircling his waist-perfectly cool
Thus the matador. He bowed and kissed
his hand in response to the shouts of well
come, and fourished his sword, as if at
once to test the temper of the steel and the
suppIeness of his wrist.
"Ahi Is be not splendid? Rodriguez,
the matadori' murmured the young girl,
CHANGING shyly at Weston Sharpleigh from
beneath her sweeping, dark eyelashes.
Rodriguez! Rodriguez Bravar' shout
ed the multitude
Rodriguez was the most famous matador
that had ever visited Guanaraja, and the
populace worshiped him. Beneath Mexi-
co.'s sunny skies admiration for personal
strength and bravery is soon warmed into
idolatry.
In the meantime the banderillos and
chulos were engaging the attention of ell
toro until the matador should be gracious
" pleased to bestow the coup de grace.
The moment has arrived now, as he init
mates by bowling his head slightly and
throwing himself into position, with the
long, keen sword pointed in the direction
of the maddened bull.
Half dozen more darts, poke from the
spears of two picadors, and Andalusia's
son is bearing down like tornado upon
the motionless matador, standing like
fate to receive the onslaught. There is
rush, a cloud of dust, light skip On
the part of Rodriguez, a CLEAN of steel,
shock and quivering mass of flesh, with
a sword blade through its heart, is all
that is left of ell toro bravado
Rodriguez withdraws his blade and bows
low amid hurricane of gold, silver, cl-
CARS, bouquets and shouts of approval.
The young girl is in transports of delight
and is constrained to turn and see how the
young Americana behind her takes the eX-
hibition. She is astonished. He is stand
ing up, with his eyes fixed upon the smil-
ing countenance of the matadOr, but with
out evincing any sign of pleasure. He
breathes hard as he gazes Stonily upon the
sinewy bull fighter with the long rapier.
Then his hands clench, his brows contract
and there is slight shake of the head, as
he mutters to himself through his set teeth:
''Such stroke as that ended the life of
my countryman."
The young man sat quietly while two
more bulls were dispatched-but without
seeing anything save Rodriguez and his
sword, which he was convinced had drunk
the life blood of the young American
stranger found dead in the plaza-and then
passed out of the building with the crowd.
''Now for Rodriguez" said Weston
Sharpleigh to himself, as he strolled to-
ward the white hotel, with its struggling
verandas and many windows, where he, as
well as the matador, was sojourninG
AS he reached the house he saw Rodri.
cuez on the veranda, showing has white
teeth beneath his dark mustache in graft
fed smile, as he listened to the cOmpl-
ments of bystanders on his skill. Weston
Sharpleigh joined the group and soon con-
trived to lead the conversation up TO the
murder of the young American.
1.-The murderer was a good swordsman,"
said Weston carelessly, without address
ing any one in particular, but keeping his
eyes fixed on the face of Rodriguez.
The face of the matador flushed, as II
some one had praised him, and he inter
iected: "Caramba! Twas well done, Per
dition seize''-
"What?" asked Weston sharply.
'Nothingl' returned Rodriguez, with
his customary smile. "But the stroke was
neat"
"And the victim:"
"Carambai Curse him! He meddled, and
he got what he deservedp'
"How do you know"
Rodriguez shrugged his shoulders and
waved his right arm impatiently. The ac-
ton was singularly like that of a swords
man delivering a mortal thrust, and as the
sleeve of his shirt, which was unfastened
at the cuff, slipped up and exposed the
sinewy arm, Weston Sharpleigh could
easily understand how light task it
would be for the matador to transix either
a man or a bull at one blow.-George c.
jerks in Pittsburg Bulletin.
A Newspaper Sensation.