The man shouted in dismay and then was silent at a word from the captain. Hugo weighed the gun in his hands while they watched and then slowly bent the barrel double. Next he tore it from its stock. Then he grasped the parallel steel ends and broke them apart with a swift wrench. The captain half rose, his eyes bulged, he knocked over his ink-well. His hand tugged at his moustache and waved spasmodically.
"You see?" Hugo said.
The captain went to staff meeting that afternoon very thoughtful. He understood the difficulty of exhibiting his soldier's prowess under circumstances that would assure the proper commission. He even considered remaining silent about Hugo. With such a man in his company it would soon be illustrious along the whole broad front. But the chance came. When the meeting was finished and the officers relaxed over their wine, a colonel brought up the subject of the merits of various breeds of men as soldiers.
"I think," he said, "that the Prussians are undoubtedly our most dangerous foe. On our own side we have—"
"Begging the colonel's pardon," the captain said, "there is a species of fighter unknown, or almost unknown, in this part of the world, who excels by far all others."
"And who may they be?" the colonel asked stiffly.
"Have you ever heard of the Colorados?"
"No," the colonel said.
Another officer meditated. "They are redskins, American Indians, are they not?"
The captain shrugged. "I do not know. I know only that they are superior to all other soldiers."