upon Manuel's hip. Several seconds passed and he was amazed that Manuel had not said anything before now, but he wasn't going to move his hand if he did not have to.

At the first touch of Lorenzo, Manuel had cut short the ending of his prayer. He was surprised, scared and a little shocked. He did not know what to make of this overly-friendly gesture of the younger brother. He finally gained enough courage to speak. "Lorenzo, what is it you want?"

"Ah-h, is it not plain?"

Manuel fell back on his bottom and leaned over on his left side causing the man to withdraw his hand. "It is plain that you are not going to get what you want. You are on a trail that leads nowhere, and take off your sombrero, you are in a church."

Lorenzo nodded his head slightly, as if in agreement, and whipping off his sombrero he let it fall to the floor. Neither one spoke for awhile and there was silence in the abandoned church. Only the faint sighing of a rising wind could be heard. Jingle-jingle. Manuel watched Lorenzo closely as the Spaniard played with the spur on his boot heel, putting one olive-colored finger on the sharp point and pressing down suddenly to cause it to spin. "Why you no like me?" Lorenzo spoke in a pleading voice.

"I like you... you are a very fine man and a wonderful brother to Juanito." "But you do not love me?"

"Must I love you? Can I not like you just as much as if I loved you? I can only love one man at one time and you know I love Juanito, he is my whole world."

"If I had no brother, would you love me?"

"Perhaps."

Lorenzo sighed as if there were no hope for him and he swallowed audibly. He left off playing with his spur and ran a forefinger over his neatly-trimmed black moustache. "You know," he said, staring deeply into Manuel's eyes. “I could take you over by force, kidnap you and take you away some place.”

"You might." Manuel answered him back. "but sooner or later you would fall asleep," he said softly, "and then . . ." He reached along his ankle and into his high-top shoe and drew forth a thin, narrow-bladed stiletto. "Sooner or later you would fall asleep and when you did. I would place the point of this knife directly over your heart and shove it home."

"You would do that to me?"

"Yes," Manuel nodded. "I would."

"If I took the knife away from you?"

"There would be other ways-the sharp-pointed thorn of the" what he was going to say did not come out for he was fascinated at the actions of Lorenzo who sadly shook his head, reached out and took one of Manuel's hands in his two and clasped it warmly. He ran his thumb over the back of Manuel's hand, up a little ways under the sleeve of his shirt, then down under his arm and over his wrist, pausing for a second at the pulse spot and feeling it quicken. Manuel knew that his pulse must be increasing its beating and he pulled his hand away in anger. "Enough of this. You are drunk, Lorenzo, or you would not say and do these things." Manuel got to his feet and strode out of the church, angry at himself for allowing such things to happen.

Slipping out past the swaying door, he stopped on the threshold and slid the knife back into his shoe. The rising wind stirred his hair and forced a black

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