"Yes."
"The other. He is not of the Republic. His uniform is different, and he speaks the tongue of my fathers badly."
"He is of the Republic of Cuba. He is a friend of our Republic."
"You both have guns," the herder said. He looked at his dog, who stood between him and the intruders. "If you are friends, you will give your guns to the dog. I am without letters, but if you are friends, you can prove it to an educated man in our village."
"What is your village?"
"You have guns."
"They are yours, compañero. See, I take mine. I lay it on the ground for your dog."
The shepherd addressed his dog in Euzkadi. The dog walked over to the gun, picked it up in his mouth, dropped it at the peasant's feet. He then made a trip for Hall's gun.
"You will walk in front of me," the shepherd said. "We will go toward that stile." He picked up the two pistols, shoved them into his skin bag.
Segador started to laugh. "I salute your vigilance, shepherd. We had two guns to your one. We could have shot you first. A coward would have run for help, first."