The opposition was scarcely mad enough to attempt
taking the guns from forty armed men. Chaves devoutly hoped they
would, in order that he might get a little glory, at least, out
of the affair. But of course such an expectation would be
ridiculous. No, the journey would continue to be humdrum to the
end, he was wearily assured of that, and consequently attempted
to steal a half hour's sleep while propped against a window with
his feet in the seat opposite.
The gallant lieutenant was awakened by a cessation of the
drumming of the wheels. Opening his eyes, he saw that the train
was no longer in motion. He also saw--and his consciousness of
that fact was much more acute--the rim of a revolver about six
inches from his forehead. Behind the revolver was a man, a young
Spanish gypsy, and he was offering the officer very good advice.
"Don't move, sir. No cause for being uneasy. Just sit quiet and
everything will be serene. No, I wouldn't reach for that
revolver, if I were you."
Chaves cast a hurried eye down the car, and at the end of it
beheld the huge Irishman, O'Halloran, dominating the situation
with a pair of revolvers.
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