"I'll speak to Chavela," said Gabriel, and started to leave the room.
"I came to tell you I have taken charge of the hacienda. People are hungry and sick. They can't wait any longer." Raul realized that Gabriel had halted abruptly, to listen. He had spoken distinctly but not loudly. He was not disturbed. He felt ashamed of himself for not declaring himself long ago.
His father's eyes flashed with wild anger; his mouth twitched; his jaw dropped; his decayed teeth showed. He raised one hand but it shook, and he shoved it underneath his sheet and tried to sit up. His Adam's apple rose and fell; he gulped and rolled on his pillow. He tried to get one leg out of bed but could not. Patches scabbed his sight; he shook his head but saw his father riding a white range horse. With great difficulty, Fernando made out that Gabriel had returned to his bedside.
"Get out," Fernando managed. "Get out!" he shrilled.
"It's time Raul managed Petaca," said Gabriel kindly. "You must see it his way. You need to rest." He was alarmed by the man's tortured face.
"I am dismissing Pedro Chávez," said Raul. "There will be no more killings on my hacienda."
Fernando's eyes were bloodshot; they flicked from left to right; tears oozed at the corners.
"God damn you!" he said hoarsely. He puckered his lips to spit, wanting to catch them both.
"It's time our sick were cared for, Don Fernando," said Gabriel.
"Shut up," said the old man.