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"Avertruz, maldito!" he exclaims, terms in the gaucho vernacular synonymous with "ostrich, be hanged!" adding, as he continues to gaze hopelessly around, "I wish I'd let the long-legged brute go its way. Like as not, it'll hinder me going mine, till too late. And if so, there'll be a pretty tale to tell! Santissima! whatever am I to do?
The general finished his bottle of wine before he turned savagely upon them. "You are friends of the Gringo Yeager. Not so?" he accused. It was too late for a denial now. Threewit admitted the charge. "So. Maldito! What are you doing here? I've had enough of you Yankees!" he exploded. Before Threewit had more than begun his explanations he brushed aside the director's words.
For they were cramped against the wall with their rifles by their sides, so bound by the situation that to have lifted them to aim would have been impossible. "The American he has escaped us this time," one of them said as they moved off. "Maldito, the devil has given him wings to fly away," replied Pablo. After the sound of their footsteps had died, Gordon resumed his descent.
Y cómo no quiere estar usted mala con ese maldito te que ha dado usted en tomar ahora en lugar del guisado y de la ensalada, que todo cristiano toma a semejantes horas.
There was a big red lump on his forehead. "Why didn't you put him into his own bed?" Dick asked the negro. "He go in, señor, and come out quick. Say no possible he stop. Maldito bed is damp." Bethune smiled. "There'll be a big washbasket for the lavenderas to-morrow, but we must take his wet clothes off." He shook Jake. "You've got to wake up!"
He was even insulted in the streets by the numerous Lazaroni, with the epithet of Maldito Corrobonari, so that I lost my father's love. And when the confessor told him there was no other way to save me from hell than an entire life of penance in a convent, he heartily and freely gave his consent.
You're across the line and among friends. No use keeping up the bluff. I know who held me up. If I'm not hos-tile about it, you don't need to be." The prizefighter flung at him the word of insult that no man in the fighting West brooks. Before Steve could speak or move, Pasquale hammered the table with his heavy, hairy fist. "Maldito!" he roared.
"Yes, you and all her friends you shall all be there to wish her joy even Holcomb, who wearies me with his protests. Maldito! Is Gabriel Pasquale not good enough for a kitchen wench from Arizona?" "It's an outrage beyond belief." "And afterward while the little chatita makes love to Gabriel her friend Steve whom she loves will suffer his punishment with what fortitude he can."
He muttered a soft "maldito!" at them which might have been mistaken for a caress and determined upon a merciless campaign of extermination just as soon as he could have fitted a new handle to his hoe. Then he paused in front of the Mission steps and lifted his hat, made an elegant bow, and smiled in his own inimitable, remarkably fascinating way.
Had he stolen her heart with his devilish wiles? The hard glitter in the black eyes of the Mexican told that he would punish him if this were true. His younger brother Pedro took the horse from him as he rode into the ranch plaza an hour later. "You are to go to the señorita at once and tell her how the gringo is, Pablo." After a moment he added sullenly: "Maldito, how is the son of a thief?"
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