"Who the deuce are you that comes breaking into a man's house, and talking about doom and all that sort of thing? By George! I've a notion to——" began Hoskins in a blustering tone, but he came to an abrupt pause, for the giant seeing where it was most needed had swung the revolver around until it covered his form.
"You're mistaken. You haven't any notion at all, and it'll be better for your health if you don't have any. Asked me what I came here for; you invited me; declared you would like to see the man that was going to take the gal from you, so I showed myself. Now, my rooster, what's what with you?"
Hoskins seemed to have some spirit in him at any rate.
"Fool," said he, "one shot from your pistol would put you in a hornet's nest. If I choose to shout, a hundred braves will surround the lodge."
"As to the alarm, I care nothing for that; knew I couldn't do any work without raising it; but I swear you shan't shout again in this world, though you may in the one below us. Die, you dog."
The sudden startling crack of a revolver rang out.
Red Goliath had fired. There was an awful shudder on the part of Hoskins; a gurgling sound as if he was trying to curse his slayer, and then the stricken man fell to the ground shot through the heart. Turning on the creole, Red Goliath again raised his death-dealing revolver.
Pedro had slunk away and was crouching on the ground.
At this contemptible display of cowardice, the giant gave him a hearty kick of derision, in order to induce him to stand erect; but it only had the effect of flattening the miscreant out still more.
There was no time to waste, as the Indians must already be alarmed.