The men were armed, several with guns in their hands; all with
revolvers buckled at the waist, and they bunched there, just outside
the door, evidently startled, but not knowing which way to turn. The
figure on the ground lifted itself partly, and the fellow must have
called to the others, although no sound of a voice attained the summit
of the cliff, for the whole gang rushed in that direction, and
clustered about, gesticulating excitedly.
An occasional Spanish oath exploded from the mass with sufficient
vehemence to reach the strained ears above, and the watchers were able
to perceive the fellows lift the fallen man to his feet, and untie his
hands, which were apparently secured behind his back. He must have
been wounded also, for one sleeve was hastily rolled up, and water
brought from the stream, in which it was bathed. Not until this had
been attended to did the crowd fall away, sufficiently to permit the
fellow himself to be distinctly seen. Moore's hand closed convulsively
on the marshal's arm.
"It's ol' Mendez, as I'm a livin' sinner,", he announced hoarsely.
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