"Some howling you're doing," came to the sufferer from a boy who was
stretched out on the ground with his legs cramped close to his chest
and his head pillowed against a rock.
"It hurts like anything."
"Then shut up, grin and bear it. Hang yourself."
Manuel thought that he heard El Carnicerin's voice and glanced toward
the speaker. The fellow's hat was pulled down over his eyes and his
face was not visible.
"Who's that?" asked Manuel of El Bizco.
"He's the captain of the cave gang: El Interprete."
"And what's he talking to the kid like that for?"
El Bizco shrugged his shoulders with a gesture of indifference.
"What's' the trouble?" Manuel inquired of the boy.
"I have a wound in my foot," replied the child, bursting again into
tears.
"Shut up, I tell you," interrupted El Interprete, aiming a kick at the
sufferer, who managed to escape the blow. "Go tell your troubles to
your bitch of a mother.... Damn it all! It's impossible to sleep
here."
"Then to hell with you!" shouted Manuel.
"Who are you talking to?" demanded El Interprete, shoving his cap back
on his head and revealing a brutish face with a flat nose and high
cheekbones.
"To you, you thief, you coward!"
El Interprete sprang to his feet and strode over to Manuel, who, in an
excess of fury seized him with both hands by the neck, kicked him in
the leg with his right heel, made him lose his balance and threw him
to the ground.
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