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workman to load it into the back of his car, and on the way back to town it became even heavier, for he s ' My father had been reared in Southern traditions and was a deter- mined Democrat, but like most of his a We fought the Moors in C6rdoba for six hundred years. , Years later, after the defeat of the South, my grandfather would choose exile in Mexico, where he wou

d began screaming at him: 'You stinking son-of-a-bitchl Bringing all these men here for no purpose. ' 'Good Godi'Don Eduardo cried. I recalled how, in the lonely room where he dressed, he had been so appreciative that I had come to photograph him. The three young Leal men - Veneno of course was in the corrals astride his horse awaiting his call to action - must have observed with relief