Instead, he bobbed up inside of the negro's reach.

The Mexican thrust out his slim, sinewy right-hand forefinger.

A vicious poke he gave with it, landing sharply on a spot just about an inch and a quarter below the base of the negro's breast bone.
"Woof!" panted Sambo, half doubling, for Nicolas had touched a tender spot.
"You have insult me! You call me mean name!" raged Nicolas.

"Stand steel, you big black smoke!" Again Nicolas ducked and rushed in.

Once more he employed his forefinger tip in the same fashion, and with more power.
"O-o-o-o-o-h! Wow!" gasped Sambo, this time doubling nearly to the ground.
"Get away, chile! I doan' wan' no mo' ob yo'!" "You have insult," insisted Nicolas angrily, "and I do much more yet to you." This time the negro appeared almost helpless.