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EXCITING STORIES OF THE PLAYERS THAT ARE TRUE 105
began to give way. We breathed with great difficulty. Then the lights went out. My eyeballs started out of my head and I thought my ear-drums would burst. The water was up to our ankles. It was then that I fainted and fell into the water. I knew no more until I found myself in Bellevue Hospital. As soon as I was able, I handed in my resignation. It's more fun to stand in front of a camera and have people throw pies at you and fall downstairs than it is to suffocate. ' '
''Antonio, tell us a story," said our host, and Antonio Moreno, who had kept strangely silent so far, began:
' ' 'Twas a dark and stormy
even " and ducked two pillows,
a book and a pair of binoculars. "When I was a boy — " started Tony.
"Which was not long ago," interrupted Wallie.
"When I was a boy," repeated Tony, glaring at Wallie, "I lived with my people in Seville, Spain, and bull-fighting was to me what baseball is to the American boy. I envied my cousin, who was a matador, and I longed to be a bull-fighter when I grew up. I went regularly every week, and one Saturday they had a special fete. No less than thirty-five bulls were to be slaughtered. I occupied, with my family, a box in the front row near the middle of the arena. It was during the killing of the tenth bull, a ferocious beast, that the calamity occurred. I happened to be wearing a jaunty little red hat and jacket. In the excitement I leaned too far over the rail and fell into the arena. Por Dios! but I was scared. The bull, already crazed by the sword-thrusts of the matadors, charged me. 'Run, fool, run,' cried one of the fighters. My cousin and the man intercepted the bull. The gate was fifty yards away, and altho I was small, I made good time towards it. The bull got by the fighters and still made for me. The man at the gate had just time to pull me outside and slam the gate, when the bull crashed into it. He charged the gate again and again and soon broke both
of his horns. Then the toreadors killed him.
"'Peste!' said my father. ' Fool of
WALLIE VAN
a Doy> g° home ! ' I was not allowed to see a fight for a month."
Every one having related something or other, each sought his berth.