Arthur O. Friel

“ He was as merciless as Paco the Butcher, except that he was not so cruel: a killer, but not a torturer.
"Well, Jaime," I said, "it seems that you are the winner. But since when have you let your men do your work while you skulked behind? You were not here when I fought."
"I was at the clearing beyond," he growled. "We were looking in all directions for you, and these men found you. You ——, you have killed two of them." ”

“ He was enjoying Paco's rage too much to shoot. I sat up.
"Give me a gun, Jaime—a revolver—anything," I asked. "Let me settle my score with that filthy brute. After that——"
"Si, after that you will shoot me also, León," he jeered. "You are not to be trusted with a gun. Lie down again before I kick you down!"
But I did not lie down. I started to crawl toward my arrows, which nobody had noticed. I was determined to kill the Butcher before I should die in my turn. ”

“ I kept shooting as fast as I could shift my aim from man to man—and that was very fast indeed. At that short range I could not miss. Every man of those five staggered. Two of them fell.
My gun empty, I sprang up and jumped toward the river, intending to dive off, swim down-stream under water, and try to get into the bush. But I had hardly turned and begun to move outward when a terrible blow struck my right leg. With the blow came another gun-shot. I tumbled sprawling on my face.
Before I could drag myself forward, men were on me. I fought, squirmed over, drew my poniard, struck at somebody. ”