"Not if you kill me for refusing. If you wish to take me anywhere,
Gringos, you will have to carry me every step of the way."
"We won't carry you, either," Tom continued, coolly. "Gato, a few moments ago, you had the whip-hand. Now, we're carrying the whip. We don't want any nonsense. If you carry matters too far you'll discover that Hazelton and I have had more or less experience as wild animal trainers. But, first of all, your head. It must be attended to."
Tom wiped away the blood, which was now clotting, with his own handkerchief.
"Help me to stand him on his feet, Harry," Reade then commanded.
Between them they dragged the heavy fellow to his feet, but Gato promptly cast himself down again.
"We'll haul you up again," Tom went on, patiently. "Don't try that mulish trick any more, Gato, or I promise you that you'll regret it."
No sooner had he been placed on his feet than. Gato once more threw himself down. As soon as he went down, however, Tom jerked him to his feet.
A roar like that of an angry bull escaped the lips of the suffering
Mexican.
"He is trying to summon his men!" cried Nicolas, snatching up the rifle.
No sooner was Gato upright than he threw himself down once more.