He got into the pub, everybody saw him and
didn´t make a noise. The silence was there in every place. He was the most
intimidate man alive, his moves, his black eyes. His voice was the sound of the
old’s Patagonians who have lived in south America. He was the Gaucho Martin
Iron.
He
made a few steps and sat in a chair. For a moment he took away his look of the
floor and he exclaimed to the bartender: -a beer please, a national one. The
bartender paid attention as if he was a little child at the school -yes, of
course Mr. Gaucho. He gave the beer to Martin and this one drunk it all in a
sip.
-Hey
you! - exclaimed one of the guys sit on the corner.
The
Gaucho said nothing and stayed quiet. After a few seconds the other guy
insisted again:
-Hey
you! Are you listening me? Are you going to answer me or what?
-What
do you want? – answered Iron.
-
You just come here, say nothing, even you don´t say hello and do you want we
treat you like a king? Be nice with us or meanwhile you are drinking here we
would be with your China – the rest of the men at the bar looked each other.
-What
did you say? – Asked to the drunker
-
That maybe your China need a visit from me when you are wasting your time
drinking here.
Martin
Iron jumped over him, he took of his pocket his knife and put it close his throat.
The others felt how the breath of the victim got accelerating. The Gaucho press
more and more the knife against him and he looked like if he was to killed him.
Martin iron was so cold and the drunker was so sweaty. The drunker started to
cry like a little pussy and asked to the Gaucho for mercy. The Gaucho let him
free and a tremendous laugh was hearing everywhere. The victim ran away as fast
as he could.
The
Gaucho martin Iron took the beer and drunk the last sip, saw to the bartender
and said: -Until the next time.
He
went out and his shadow disappeared on the horizon.
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