H. Bedford-Jones

“ After Cholo Bill rode Ramsay, the reins of his horse held by Ximines at his stirrup. As they rode out across the grassy cañon, the Mexican laughed and spoke softly to the captive.
"Ho, little señor! What is it I read in the newspaper, that the wise men say in your town of New York, eh? They say that the Americano, he is not civilized—that the Americano of the West, he is an animal. ”

“ Ramsay shrugged.
"It doesn't worry you to bring in people from outside and cheat them or murder them, does it?" he retorted. "And it doesn't worry anyone to wipe out a rattler. You fellows and desert rattlers are about in the same class."
"And you'll be in the same class with your brother when we get through with ye," said Sidewinder acidly.
"He knows too much," said Ximines in Spanish. "Kill him now, quickly."
"You back down and rest your heels," snapped Sidewinder. "I'm running this show. ”

“ Sidewinder eyed his three men. "Ye see, we can't afford to take no chances. If we kill this hombre, there may be questions asked—and what'd we do with the Gilman woman? I don't aim to murder a woman."
"Give her to me," suggested Ximines, with a grin.
"You go plumb to hell," snapped Sidewinder. "I don't guess any of us want a double murder charge follering us. So here's the program with them two: Leave 'em in Pinecate Cañon, with some grub. They aint going to walk away from there in a hurry—"
"Hamstring him! " Ximines gave Ramsay a scowling glance. ”