Man with No Name- Punching Groggy

The hunter nodded and slid down wearily. The handkerchief at his neck was a sodden wad and dried blood had spread a dark stain down the poncho. The Man With No Name clung to the saddle for support.

“That damn telegram,” he said thickly. “We were clear and heading for El Paso when we ran straight into a posse from some town close by. The boys never had a chance.”

The bandit Groggy took two steps and grabbed the front of the brown poncho. “And you left good men to die while you saved your own skin, you yellow bast …”

The knife edge of an open palm flashed up to knock away the clawing hand. A granite fist smashed Groggy full in the face. The bandit flew backward, rolling in the dust, clawing at his gun. Indio took a quick step and kicked, sending the weapon flying.

- For a Few Dollars More, chapter 11