"triangular fights." A party of Americans have been driven at bay by an
overwhelming number of Mexicans or greasers, who have suddenly found
themselves attacked by a party of howling Comanches. The latter have
scattered the Mexicans like chaff, the Americans acting the part of
spectators until the rout was complete, when the Comanches turned about
and sailed into the Americans. The Kiowas, Comanches, Apaches, Mexicans
and Americans afforded just the elements for a complication of guerilla
warfare, in which matters frequently became mixed to a wonderful degree.

The hand that had fired this shot against a mortal foe of Mickey O'Rooney
might be turned against him the next hour. Who could tell?

"If that gintleman begins the serenade from the other side, it's me
bounden duty to kaap it up from this," concluded the Irishman, as he
cocked his rifle and awaited his chance.

It was not long in coming. Only a few minutes had passed after the shot,
when a couple of Apaches walked rapidly to view, and, approaching the
remains of their comrade, stooped down to carry him away.

Mickey allowed them to get fairly started, when he blazed away at the
foremost, and had the satisfaction of seeing the rear Apache not only
deprived of his assistance, but his duty suddenly doubled. The warrior,
however, stuck pluckily to the work, and dragged both out of view without
any assistance from those who were ready to rush to his help.

These two, or rather three, rifle shots produced the strongest kind of
effect upon the Apaches. They could not well fail to do so, for they were
not only fired with unerring aim, but they came from such diverse points
as to show the redskins that instead of having their enemies cooped up in