going back along that street, and was pretty nigh home, when someone
said in Spanish, 'That is the fellow,' and then five men jumped out with
knives in their hands. I had just time to whip out my six-shooter and
fire once. One fellow went down, but at the same moment I got a clip
across my wrist with a knife, and down went the pistol. Then I got a
slice across the head, and another on the shoulder, and down I went. Two
of them threw themselves on me, and I shammed dead, knowing that if I
moved it was all over with me. One of them shoved his hand in my
trousers pockets, and the other tore my shirt open. I heard a sudden
row, a blow, and the fall of a body; then one of them came tumbling down
on the top of us and knocked the two fellows over, then they jumped up,
and I heard your pistol crack twice and two falls, and as I got up on to
my feet to lend a hand I saw one of the fellows bolting down the street,
running off in another direction. That was the one, I think, that came
down on the top of us.

"I have been wondering since then how it was that that fellow fell, for
you did not fire till they jumped up."

Dick explained that he had felled one with a blow from the stick, and
not having time to strike with it again, had sent the second staggering
over the group with a blow of his fist; "those are the two that got
away, I expect," he said.

"I expect so; there were four bodies on the ground--yours, the two
fellows you shot, and the one I wiped out to begin with."

"Has there been any row about it?" Dick asked.

"No; they take these things quietly. If it had been one of my mates and