"You are hurt, Senor! The blood is on your sleeve and your hand." Dade looked down at his hand and laughed.

"I did get a scratch.

I'll let you see what it's like." "You never told me you got shot!" accused Jack sharply, from where he had thrown himself down on a bundle of blankets covered over with a bullock hide dressed soft as chamois.
"Never thought of it," retorted Dade in Spanish, out of regard for his host.
"We had some trouble with the gringos," he explained to Manuel.

"There was a little shooting, and a bullet grazed my arm.

It doesn't amount to much, but I'll let you look at it." "Ah, the gringos!" Manuel spat after the hated name.