The Mark of Zorro Read Online Free PDF Page A

blade to it and grasped it beside the pistol’s butt, and with his right he slapped Pedro Gonzales once across the cheek.
    â€œThat for a man who mistreats helpless natives!” he cried. Gonzales roared in rage and shame. Somebody was trying to smash the door in now. But Señor Zorro appeared to give it little thought. He sprang back, and sent his blade into its scabbard like a flash. He swept the pistol before him and thus threatened all in the long room. He darted to a window, sprang upon a bench.
    â€œUntil a later time, señor!” he cried.
    And then he went through the window as a mountain goat jumps from a cliff, taking its covering with him. In rushed the wind and rain, and the candles went out.
    â€œAfter him!” Gonzales screeched, springing across the room and grasping his blade again. “Unbar the door! Out and after him! Remember, there is a generous reward—”
    The corporal reached the door first, and threw it open. In stumbled two men of the pueblo, eager for wine and an explanation of the fastened door. Sergeant Gonzales and his comrades drove over them, left them sprawling, and dashed into the storm.
    But there was little use in it. It was so dark a man could not see a distance of a horse’s length. The beating rain was enough to obliterate tracks almost instantly. Señor Zorro was gone—and no man could tell in what direction.
    There was a tumult, of course, in which the men of the pueblo joined. Sergeant Gonzales and the soldiers returned to the inn to find it full of men they knew. And Sergeant Gonzales knew, also, that his reputation was now at stake.
    â€œNobody but a highwayman, nobody but a cutthroat and thief, would have done it!” he cried aloud.
    â€œHow is that, brave one?” cried a man in the throng near the doorway.
    â€œThis pretty Señor Zorro knew, of course! Some days ago I broke the thumb of my sword hand while fencing at San Juan Capistrano. No doubt the word was passed to this Señor Zorro. And he visits me at such a time that he may afterward say he had vanquished me.”
    The corporal and soldiers and landlord stared at him, but none was brave enough to say a word.
    â€œThose who were here can tell you, señores ,” Gonzales went on. “This Señor Zorro came in at the door and immediately drew a pistol—devil’s weapon—from beneath his cloak. He waves it at us, and forces all except me to retire to that corner. I refused to retire.
    â€œâ€˜Then you shall fight me,’ says this pretty highwayman, and I draw my blade, thinking to make an end of the pest. And what does he tell me then? ‘We shall fight,’ he says, ‘and I will outpoint you, so that I may boast of it afterward. In my left hand I hold the pistol. If your attack is not to my liking, I shall fire, and afterward run you through, and so make an end of a certain sergeant.’ ”
    The corporal gasped, and the fat landlord was almost ready to speak, but thought better of it when Sergeant Gonzales glared at him.
    â€œCould anything be more devilish?” Gonzales asked. “I was to fight, and yet I would get a devil’s chunk of lead in my carcass if I pressed the attack. Was there ever such a farce? It shows the stuff of which this pretty highwayman is made. Someday I shall meet him when he holds no pistol—and then—”
    â€œBut how did he get away?” someone in the crowd asked.
    â€œHe heard those at the door. He threatened me with the devil’s pistol and forced me to toss my blade in yonder far corner. He threatened us all, ran to the window, and sprang through. And how could we find him in the darkness or track him through the sheets of rain? But I am determined now! In the morning I go to my Captain Ramón and ask permission to be absolved from all other duty, that I may take some comrades and run down this pretty Señor Zorro. Ha! We shall go fox-hunting!”
    The excited