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Updated: July 28, 2025
Frascuelo's performance was, however, apparently all that could be desired, and a team of fourteen mules, gaily caparisoned with bells and flags, now entered, and dragged away the carcase of the dead bull at full gallop the fight having occupied a little over twenty minutes.
At last, then, the way was clear. Elsie would have mounted the stairs but an appealing hand detained her. "I cannot walk, señorita. My leg has given way. And we can do no good there. They are all down." A death chill gripped her heart at Frascuelo's words. "All down!" she repeated, white-lipped. "I think so," said he, blankly. The man was dazed by the ordeal through which he had passed.
Even as they were turning over on the steep steps she saw Frascuelo's knife seek that favorite junction of neck and collar-bone which Christobal had said was so well understood by those of his ilk. At the foot of the stairs the Indian lay still, and Frascuelo tried to rise. She helped him gladly. The awfulness of this killing no longer appalled her.
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