truth, yes, sir, to tell you God's truth, there's a lot of
them, a whole lot of 'em."

Luis Cervantes turned around to stare at Demetrio,
who feigned momentary deafness.

They were soon in the city square.

A loud volley of rifle shots rang out, deafening them.
Demetrio's horse reared, staggered on its hind legs, bent
its forelegs, and fell to the ground, kicking. The Owl
uttered a piercing cry and fell from his horse which
rushed madly to the center of the square.

Another volley: the guide threw up his arms and fell
on his back without a sound.

With all haste, Anastasio Montanez helped Demetrio
up behind him on his horse; the others retreated, seek-
ing shelter along the walls of the houses.

"Hey, men," said a workman sticking his head out of a
large door, "go for 'em through the back of the chapel.
They're all in there. Cut back through this street, then
turn to the left; you'll reach an alley. Keep on going ahead
until you hit the chapel."

As he spoke a fresh volley of pistol shots, directed
from the neighboring roofs, fell like a rain about them.