I did not answer. I knew his meaning. When my services were no longer required, he would, with his cowardly instinct, devise a means to kill me. The three soldiers were a fair sample of the poor ignorant Peruvians. They were armed with breech-loading rifles of French pattern, bayonets fixed. After Rodrigo had muttered his threat, he went into the little coach, sitting directly behind me, and could, by his position, observe every move I made. Manuel was standing on the left watching me. Although I had endeavored to make him understand, he was not aware of my plans. I looked back and saw the troop train taking water at the tank. I looked at Manuel, and he understood "the time had come." With my left hand, I threw the throttle wide open and with my right blew the signal agreed upon. With a prayer to God I threw myself upon the nearest soldier. XV. IN DESPERATE STRUGGLE FOR LIFE. Don Rodrigo and his soldiers were surprised. I dealt the one nearest me a terrific blow in the face. Don Rodrigo raised his hand to fire. I knocked his gun from his hand. The other soldier thrust at me with his bayonet, inflicting a severe scalp wound, which along with another thrust at me with his bayonet in my left arm, gave him time to recover. I struck the soldier in the face, and knocked him to the floor. The other was coming at me, when Manuel, armed with a shovel, brought it down with terrific force on his head. By this time the engine was going at lightning speed, having reached a down grade of 160 feet to the mile. The throttle was wide open. I knew we would soon reach some sharp curves and if the speed was not checked, the engine would jump the track. I called to Manuel to shut off the steam, and apply the brakes. At this time I was struggling with Don Rodrigo for life or death. We had clinched one another. I spoke once. "Recuerdo Felicita," I hissed in his ear. He did not speak. He was never a physical match for me, but at this moment he seemed endowed with superhuman strength. His face took on the awful look of desperation, that comes to men when death seems near at hand. His lithe body struggled to be free of my grasp. He tried to trip me and just then the engine rounded a sharp curve causing him to stagger. The side door of the coach was open. For a moment he vainly tried to catch hold of something, and then, with a shriek upon his lips, fell from the speeding coach. The struggle had lasted but a short time, but it had seemed to me hours. Manuel bandaged my head and arm. The two soldiers remained perfectly passive, suffering from severe blows. The one felled by Manuel was still unconscious. We were within three miles of Pucacancha, rounding a sharp curve, when I looked back and exclaimed: "My God, Manuel, the troop train is coming!" My blood almost froze, but realizing that this was no time for fright, I determined to master the situation.