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JUAN FRANCISCO BLANCO
you won’t mind if my friends and I help you. We don’t much like
this job, no how.”
“Well, you’re right as a good rain. We can sure use all the
help we can get. What’s your name? I hate to call you, hey you,”
Tital told him.
“My name’s Elijio, but people have called me worse than hey
you. Now, I figured your friend opened a gateway, you need a
few of these horses to go through it, correct?” Elijio said, as he
turned his horse around in the alleyway.
“We need more than just a few, we’re on a Mission for all of
them, every last one we can find,” Tital replied.
“That’s no problem for me and my men. Now, the two office
managers are not going to be too happy, when they see there’s
nothing to sell tonight. Let me get my crew working, and we’ll
sort that matter out later.”
Elijio rode off down the steel-lined alleyway. He told the
other vaqueros and cowboys about the Mission.
“It’s good to have friends in high places,” Tital said mounting
Centella. Tital rode over to join the other crew members, who
were finishing getting their horses ready to ride. “Let’s go help
get these animals all moved. A.J., take your men and see to it
that we are not stopped from the Mission.”
“I’ll keep all the onlookers peaceful. You do what you need to
do. Come on men, take those stairs and keep the crowd
occupied,” A.J. told Tital, while he and the other three officers
went over to the stairs that lead to the elevated walkways above
the animal pens. The buyers used these to keep out of the way
of the penned animals waiting to be sold.
Tital, even though he was riding Centella, somehow knew he
needed to keep ahold of his staff. From the elevated position