"Come on, friend, stand up," he said to the waiter. He dragged him out by the hand to the patio of the hotel and set a tequila bottle on his head. The poor devil refused. Insane with fright, he sought to escape, but Blondie pulled his gun and took aim.
"Come on, you son of a sea cook! If you keep on I'll give you a nice warm one!"
Blondie went to the opposite wall, raised his gun and fired. The bottle broke into bits, the alcohol poured over the lad's ghastly face.
"Now it's a go," cried Blondie, running to the bar to get another bottle, which he placed on the lad's head.
He returned to his former position, he whirled about, and shot without aiming. But he hit the waiter's ear instead of the bottle. Holding his sides with laughter, he said to the young waiter:
"Here, kid, take these bills. It ain't much. But you'll be all right with some alcohol and arnica."
After drinking a great deal of alcohol and beer, Demetrio spoke:
"Pay the bill, Blondie, I'm going to leave you."
"I ain't got a penny, General, but that's all right. I'll fix it. How much do we owe you, friend?"
"One hundred and eighty pesos, Chief," the bartender answered amiably.