If you do not feel like accepting my opinion of you, then will you meet me and explain your conduct as one real man talks with another?
If you will not give me this explanation, and persist in trying to shoot at me, then I warn you that I will and must pummel you with my fists if I ever have the pleasure of meeting you face to face." "Thomas Reade." Harry glanced through the note and smiled.

"That ought to scare the bold, bad man," said he.
"Read this, Nicolas, and see if you think the note will shame the scoundrel," laughed Tom.
"Pardon, _mi caballero_," objected Nicolas, "but I am no scholar.
I do not know how to read or write." "Oh!" said Tom simply.

"Then let me read it to you." Tom repeated what he had written, then asking: "Do you think, Nicolas, that it will be safe for you to take this to Pedro Gato ?" "Assuredly, senor." "And you are sure you can find the scoundrel ?" "I think so, though it may take considerable time." Nicolas took the note, holding it tight in his left hand.

He was visible for a few steps, after which he dodged down behind a rock and was seen no more.
Moving stealthily over the hillsides, Nicolas spent a full hour in obtaining the first glimpse of Gato.

That worthy was seated on the ground, smoking and chatting in low tones with his desperate-looking companions.