River Falls journal. [volume] (River Falls, Pierce County, Wis.) 1872-2019, 1903-01-15

most as soon as he touched the
ground. This was the secret of his
success, for the gaffs used in the
Philippines are three or four inches
long and razor-edged; consequently,
the cock who gets in the first blow
usually puts his opponent hors de
combat
The Gallo Blanco crouched with
head forward, neck feathers brls-
tied, just an instant too long. The
brown bird of Malate sprung upon
him like a fash. There was
blurred tangle of brown and white,
and a little cloud of gray dust. When
it subsidized the Gallo Blanco faced
his adversary wabbling INSTEAD
lily, while a little scarlet stream
spurted over his glossy white feath-
ers. A deep groan and a storm OF
imprecations came from the Qu1apn
people. The Gallo Blanco made
last weak attempt to reach his foe,
stumbled and rolled over dead.
IL the pandemonium of cheers and
| curses several Quiapo men leaped into
| the pit. One of them, old Alessandro,
the shoemaker, an expert on cock
| fighting, seized the body of the Gallo
| Blanco and examined it mlnuteIy
Suddenly he waved his hand for ST.
lence, his wrinkIed face distorted
with rage.
His reg is broken" he shouted IN
TugaIo. 'Isadoro has crippled him.
There was a general movement to-
ward the pit, but the old man cried
! out lust in time: Back! Remember
that the American soldiers are here.
We can do nothing. Let US go to
the Widow Mercado and get her TO
make an accusation to the American
officials"
The Quiapo portion of the crowd be-
gan tofiIe out of the inclosure. Come,
you pig, and son of pig" said
Alessandro to the dazed IsadOrO;
come, or knife in the back to you,
speedily"
Isadoro followed him like one in a
trance. Now and then he muttered
through cracked lips: ''Dios! l did
not do it. My king, oh, my king"
Maria, the daughter of the baker,
spat upon him as he passed her.
Animal" she cried, furiously. Isa-
Coro had been tried and found guilty.
At the official trial numerous wit
nesses would be produced to swear
that they saw him cripple the bird,
and he would be sent to Bilibid prison
for several years. The people of
Quiapo had been impoverished
through the deed, and wanted salts
faction. If they had lost fairly, they
would have borne it philosophically
for the Filipinos are good gamblers"
but to lose through apparent treach
cry reused their fury TO the highest
pitch.
We're it not for the fact that sew
eral of the older men realized that
the American authorities were I'M
reasonable enough to set a higher
value on a human life than that of
game-cOck, Isadoro would have been
disposed of long before they reached
the beno stand.
MY little ones will starve,"
shrieked mother of many; ''all we
had was on the Gallo Blanco. Kill
the traitOr!" And others echoed the
cry of kill"
The widow was serving Private
Smith, of the Manila constabulary
with contraband liquid when the
procession arrived. At sight of the
khaki uniform most of the crowd
drew back.
Sonora" said the old shoemaker,
with forced calmness, ''Isadoro Grip
pied the Gallo Blanco, and he was
killed. Come with us to the court
and make complaint"
IsadOro cast a look of mute appeal
at the widow. 1t was entirely su-
perfuous. She shrugged her lean
+ mahogany shoulders. cit may be
true, or it may not" said the widow.
quietly; but | will not make com
plant. The Gallo Blanco was mine.
Vamos, or 1 will tell the policeman
to drive you away"
She laid her hand gently on Isa-
doros shoulder and drew him INFO
the little nipa hut. With muttered
curses the crowd withdrew
''To-night," announced the widow.
1--WE will go to the padre at the
Church OF Nostra Sonora del Quiapo
to be married.
Isadoro drew back from her with
a curse. He looked into that unat-
tractive face with something much
akin to hatred. eff not" added the
widow, with a look of determination,
II will tell the policeman to take
you"
Then Isadoro realized that he was
chained to her by circumstances, and
that, save for her, he had no friend
in all the Philippines. Also, Bilibid
prison was a place to be avoided.
Il will co. he said, finally, in ac-
cents of despair.
I'm the name of Nostra Sonora del
Quiapo, gracias," murmured the
widow.-San Francisco Argonaut.