"Don Enrique," he said, "you tell me your bullfighters are very brave men and skilful. It seems I have offended you by saying that bullfighting is a poor sport. What is the name of the best matador you have for to-morrow's show?"
"Pepito de Malaga," said Don Enrique, "one of the greatest names, one of the bravest men, in all Spain."
"Very well," said the Doctor, "I have a proposal to make to you. I have never fought a bull in my life. Now supposing I were to go into the ring to-morrow with Pepito de Malaga and any other matadors you choose; and if I can do more tricks with a bull than they can, would you promise to do something for me?"
Don Enrique threw back his head and laughed.
"Man," he said, "you must be mad! You would be killed at once. One has to be trained for years to become a proper bullfighter."
"Supposing I were willing to take the risk of that—You are not afraid, I take it, to accept my offer?"
The Spaniard frowned.
"Afraid!" he cried, "Sir, if you can beat Pepito de, Malaga in the bull-ring I'll promise you anything it is possible for me to grant."
"Very good," said the Doctor, "now I understand that you are quite a powerful man in these islands. If you wished to stop all bullfighting here
