The soul of Mexico is very old, said Quijada. Whoever claims to know it is either a liar or a fool. Or both. Now that the yankees have again betrayed them the Mexicans are eager to reclaim their indian blood. But we do not want them. Most particularly the Yaqui. The Yaqui have long memories. I believe you. Did you ever see my brother again after we left with the horses? No. How do you know about him? He was a hunted man. Where would you go? Inevitably he was taken in by Casares. You go to the enemy of your enemies. He was only fifteen. Sixteen, I guess. All the better.
