Hector stood before a bonfire that snapped and crackled, sending sparks into the night sky. With his clenched fists on his hips, Hector looked down at the seated men gathered around the fire. With his green eyes flashing and the silver conchos reflecting the firelight, Hector began to speak:
“We have lost a good man in Diaz, but we have not forgotten why we came here. In a few weeks, you will be living in your adobes. You will no longer have to live the lives of bandits but as vaqueros! In the meantime, you will need to eat and drink. So, you may once again make raids on the ranchos. Except… except for the Batista"s. Stay away, no matter how tempting it might be. Think of it as your bank where you are keeping your money.”
The seated bandits laughed at the thought of the Batista"s being t
