lock of it into his eyes, but not before he caught sight of the valet going into the first opened doorway of the long row of buildings that comprised the hospice. Manuel thought that talking with him might take his mind off the incident in the chapel.

The third and final part of the bullfight began. It was now that Juanito would prepare the bull for the ultima estocada, the "moment of truth" that marks the classic end of the contest. And it was now that the torero's ingenious capework would better serve to prepare the bull.

The animal came charging toward Juanito who held the red muleta in front of him. He performed a pase natural, holding the muleta in his left hand. It was a difficult, dangerous performance and Juanito made it even more death-defying by linking the passes together in a sort of uninterrupted "chain" keeping the bull practically fastened to the muleta. The banderillas flopped up and down in the animal's shoulder muscles and rubbed against Juanito's waist. The crowd roared its pleasure, the bull fighter was aware of his ovation. The wind that had sprung up from the desert blew miniature tornadoes about the arena. It is now becoming dangerous, Juanito realized, for should the wind blow the muleta the wrong way it would mean death. He must kill the bull soon. But still, the applause sounded sweetly in his ears . . . With both feet planted firmly on the dusty ground he performed a lefthanded pase de pecho with the red muleta.

Manuel was disgusted. It was only a drunken Spaniard he had mistaken for Juanito's valet, a swaying person who had wandered into the next room and promply vomited. Manuel Rodriguez moved out of the doorway and quickly stepped back in as he saw Lorenzo heading his way. Manuel knew he had been seen. He looked about for a place to hide. Spying the wine cellar, he ran down the stone steps and shrank into the dark shadows of the wall. He heard the booted feet and the clinking of spurs overhead and held his breath for fear they would come down the cellar steps. Manuel knew he would be trapped if Lorenzo came down here, for there was no telling what the brother might do. Then he heard the footsteps overhead moving closer to the stairs. He would soon be found. But then the voices of women came to his ears from the room above. Manuel considered himself safe now. Lorenzo would not dare attack him with ladies present.

Leaving his hiding place Manuel hurried up the steps. When he made the turn on the landing and started up the second flight of stairs. he saw the brother coming down.

"Manuelito, there you are."

"Lorenzo," he managed a weak grin and moved slowly up the stairs past the

man.

"Have you come to your senses now?"

"What do you mean?" There were only three more steps to go. The women turned out to be three beautiful girls whose coal-black hair hung about their shoulders, mussed by the wind. They turned and were watching him and Lorenzo ascend the stairs. Manuel was safe.

"You know you do not love Juanito, why fool yourself so? You have a feeling for me and you do not like me, you love me."

"You speak as if you had eaten of the loco weed. Lorenzo, go away." He felt the hand about his waist.

"Fool, do not fight it!"

Manuel protested, but was quickly grabbed in strong arms, and he suddenly

one