He knocked on the door of weathered pine. There was no answer. A large knothole had fallen out at head level, and he looked inside. Someone lay on the bunk, his arm flung over the side. Pushing the door, which swung heavily, Raul stepped in.
Blood stained the floor, serape and bunk. Raul rolled the man over and removed the serape from his face and chest. Someone had beaten him ... Farias was dead....
As if he had been struck, Raul stepped back.
"My God!" he exclaimed. "Que paso! Luis, Luis!" he shouted. Where was Farias' son?
On the stairway, clutching the rusty banister, he called:
"Luis ... Salvador ... Manuel! Get Dr. Velasco!"
Then he returned to examine Farias. The man felt cold. Without a doubt, he had been murdered hours before. But by whom, why?
Presently, a corral man came and then another; he sent one of the men for Father Gabriel and another for Luis. He covered Farias and sat on the stair, his eyes shut. He blamed his father, blamed himself ... this was another ugly mess for Petaca. What was wrong with men?
Gabriel limped up the stair, a torn notebook in his hand. He must have been doing some scribbling when the corral man called him. His glasses seemed about to plunge from his nose. Breathing unsteadily, hand on the rail, he paused by Raul and asked:
"What ... happened ... to Farias?"