"You saw me, didn't you? Well, I
made a few Spanish widows to-night."
"Not many, I'm afraid," O'Reilly laughed.
"Oh, believe me, I'm an old hand at this sort of thing. I shoot
just as well at night as I do in the daytime." This was literally
true, and when no one disputed his assertion Jacket proceeded
further in praise of himself, only to break off with a wordless
cry of dismay.
"What's the matter?" Johnnie inquired.
"Look! Behold me!" wailed the hero. "I have left the half of my
beautiful trousers on that barbed wire!"
Antonio swung a leg over his saddle, saying: "Come along, amigos;
we have fifty leagues ahead of us. The war will be over while we
stand here gossiping."
XXIII
INTO THE CITY OF DEATH
O'Reilly's adventures on his swift ride through Las Villas have no
part in this story. It is only necessary to say that they were
numerous and varied, that O'Reilly experienced excitement aplenty,
and that upon more than one occasion he was forced to think and to
act quickly in order to avoid a clash with some roving guerrilla
band. He had found it imperative at all times to avoid the larger
towns, for they, and in fact most of the hamlets, were unsafe;
hence the little party was forced to follow back roads and obscure
bridle trails. But the two guides were never at a loss; they were
resourceful, courageous, and at no time did the American have
reason to doubt their faithfulness.
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