"My leather belt if I miss that head there, on the black horse!"
"Lend me your rifle, Meco."
"Twenty Mauser cartridges and a half yard of sausage if you let me spill that lad riding the bay mare. All right! Watch me.... There! See him jump! Like a bloody deer."
"Don't run, you half-breeds. Come along with you! Come and meet Father Demetrio!"
Now it was Demetrio's men who screamed insults. Manteca, his smooth face swollen in exertion, yelled his lungs out. Pancracio roared, the veins and muscles in his neck dilated, his murderous eyes narrowed to two evil slits.
Demetrio fired shot after shot, constantly warning his men of impending danger, but they took no heed until they felt the bullets spattering them from one side.
"Goddamn their souls, they've branded me!" Demetrio cried, his teeth flashing.
Then, very swiftly, he slid down a gully and was lost....