Belington progressive. [volume] (Belington, W. Va.) 1912-1927, 1918-06-27

| a clank and rattle and clash of metal
upon the flags; and then-Sebastian
turned upon his tormentor, free man,
save only for the wide iron bracelets
and their connecting chain. He was
quite insane. His face was frightful to
behold it was apelike In its animal
rage, and he lowered above his master
| like some tabled creature out of the
African jungle of his forefathers.
Sebastian's fists alone would have
been formidable weapons, but they
were armored and weighted with the
| old-fashioned, hand-wrought irons
which Pancho Cueto had locked upon
them. Wrapping the chain in his fin
| gers, the slave leaped at Esteban and
struck, once. The sound of the blow
was sickening, for the whole bony
structure of Esteban Varona's head
gave way.
There was a Mortified cry from the
other white men. Don Pablo Pea ran
| forward, shouting. He swung his
| machete, but Sebastian met him before
| the blow could descend, and they went
down together upon the hard stones.
Again Sebastian smote, with his mas
sive hands wrapped in the chain and
| his wrists encased in steel, and this
time it was as if Don Pablo's head had
been caught between a hammer and an
anvil. The negro's strength, exceptional
at all times, was multiplied tenfold; he
had run amuck. When he arose the
machete was in his grasp and Don
Pablo's brains were on his, knuckles.
1t all happened in far less time than
it takes to tell. The onlookers had not
yet recovered from their first conster-
nation in fact they were still fumbling
and Juggling at whatever weapons they
carried, when Sebastian came toward
them, brandiShing the blade on high.
Pedro Miron, the advocate, was the
third to fall. He tried to scramble out
of the negro'S path, but, being an old
man, his limbs were too stiff to serve
him and he went down shrieking.
By now the horses had caught the
scent of hot blood and were plunging
furiously, the clatter of their hoofs
mingling with the blasphemies of the
riders, while Sebastian's bestial roar
ing made the commotion even more
hideous.
Esteban's guests fought as much for
their lives as for vengeance upon the
slayer for Sebastian was like gorilla ;
he seemed intent upon killing them all.
He vented his fury upon whatever
came within his reach; he struck at
men and animals alike, and the shriekS
of wounded horses added to the din.
It was frightful combat. 1t seemed
incredible that one man could work
such dreadful havoc in so short a time.
Varona and two of his friends were
dead; two more were badly wounded,
and Peruvian stallion lay kicking on
the tagging when Col. Mendoza Y Lin
ares finally managed to get bullet
home in the black mans brain.
Those who came running to learn
the cause of the hubbub turned away
sick and pallid, for the paved yard was
shambles. Pancho Cueto called upon
the slaves to help him, but they skunk
back to their quarters, dumb with ter
ror and dismay.
All that night people from the town
below came and went and the quinta
resounded to sobs and lamentations,
but of all the relatives of the dead and
wounded, Donna Isabel took her be-
reavement hardest. Strange to say
she could not be comforted. Now, when
it was too late, she realized that she
had overreached herself, having caused
the death of the only two who knew
the secret of the treasure. She remem-
bered, also, Sebastian's statement that
even the deeds of patent for the land
were hidden with the rest, where ten
thousand men in ten thousand years
could never find them.