Comanchero

Tascosa lay on the Canadian River a couple of hard days' ride south.

Until recently, it had been a Comanchero trading point.

Now it was mostly a center for cattle thieves looking for a place to spend their money.

I hadn't been there for several years, and when we rode in, I was surprised to see how much the town had grown.

While I fully understand the hesitation of my colleagues, I could not escape the question, if not I, then who? I arrived in San Antonio in the spring following a dire and dusty journey from the coast, and upon my arrival I was immediately struck by the brilliance of the old Spanish cathedral of San Fernando, which rises over the main plaza.

Surrounding it was a curious mix of ancient adobe homes and newer, more contemporary-looking buildings, and while the streets teemed with both Tejanos and a great many European settlers, among them were a handful of soldiers and the odd Comanchero trader.

Those were the men who caught my attention the most, not only for their strange manner of dress, but for the surety with which they carried themselves.

They aren't natives, of course, but Tejano Spanish who forged trading arrangements with certain bands of less aggressive Comanche.

Manolito becomes involved with an aristro- aristocratic young woman whom he knew in childhood, Mercedes Vega de Granada, who is visiting Rancho Montoya when she refuses to go through with an arranged marriage to another man.

Manolito begins courting her, but he is shot by a band of Comancheros who ki- kidnap her for ransom.

It's a good show, man.

It's just a good show.