You are in a lot of trouble, muchacho.

Photo Source ~ Mexconnect.com “You are in a lot of trouble, muchacho.” She lit a cigar and blew the smoke at him. “Want one, muchacho?” She pointed at the cigar and he nodded yes. She knelt down beside him so that her face was now just a foot away. “No, sorry. Don’t have many left. None to spare.” She grinned.
His eyes rolled about; the pain was too much to bear, her bullet making it impossible to move anything else. He breathed in unsteadily and waited.
Maria reached over and stuck a finger in his vest pocket. She tore downward and found some money there. She went through the rest of his pockets and got a couple of rings and a necklace and one pocket watch. She put these in her pocket and then, reaching down, removed his gun belt. He cried out in pain.
 “Oh, sorry.” She shrugged and continued to strip him. She removed all his clothes until he was naked, sweat pouring from his face. The clothes had no value, they were essentially rags, but she did not want him protected from the sun.
“Well, I have to go now, muchacho. Bye.”
“No, no.” He cried out weakly, plaintively. “A bullet.”
“Oh, no muchacho. I will not waste another bullet on you.” She got her water gourd and opened it, took a long sloppy drink with much of the water running down her chin and neck. She looked up at the sun and then down at the man who was already starting to burn. She lifted the gourd and dumped the remaining contents over her head until she was soaking wet. Maria's Trail