Tepepa Page #2

Just a moment.

- Francisco!

- Yes, Tepepa?

Take!

The dominions...

Good evening.

Hello Raul.

How's it going, Martinez?

It was a very good idea Tepepa,

Have you come for me?

No, because of Pedro.

Pedro!

Hey!

Pedro!

- Smuggling, what?

- Bigamy.

- What is it?

- It is illegal too have a second wife.

Come on...

Back.

Back!

All right, all right.

The dynamite speaks louder than I?

Out with you!

Let's go!

Everyone out here.

Out with you!

Pedro?

Pedro!

- Tepepa!

- Yes?

- Pedro!

- Tepepa!

- How are you?

- Tepepa!

- My friend.

- Comrade.

Tepepa does not forget his friends,

right, Pedrito?

Tepepa...

Tepepa... comrade.

Hello little one.

And who is this?

- Does he belong to you?

- My son.

Beautiful.

And the mother?

Dead.

He seems a to be bright boy?

Well...

Pedro...

How did that happen?

The Rurales.

They robbed you?

Yes.

Much?

Shame, shame, shame

shame, shame, shame, shame.

I would have need for your hands Pedro.

Adios!

Tepepa!

Tepepa!

Adios, adios.

Let's go!

Tepepa!

Tepepa!

Hey... Hey!

Good day, Doctor.

Did you leave your wife yet?

Huh?

The Doctor is British.

An important man.

He wants to kill me, right?

You son of a b*tch.

That's enough.

I said that's enough!

What is this?

Pretty, huh?

Should I make him cold, Tepepa?

No.

The doctor is a much too

sentimental type.

And you?

Even so, I can be useful to you.

Do not send us away, Comrade.

So good.

We are already a few hands raised.

Who was that?

Who...

Who was that?

The Rurales.

The Rurales.

Because he was a friend of Tepepa.

My God, my God.

What cruelty...

What cruelty.

To destroy these beautiful

white and delicate hands...

Ei, ei, ei...

What is wrong with our country?

What unfortunate country.

What a sad, unhappy and

poor country Mexico is.

Among all those

I know, only two could...

Only two could write.

One can not do more

because he has no hands.

And the other is dead

What a shame for Mexico,

Compaeros.

A country in which only the rich...

the priests and the generals can write.

And we will never know what they write,

since we are not able to read something.

We are a uneducated bunch.

We are a uneducated bunch, but...

but...

Let's go, muchachos!

Write.

Begin!

I give you the gun and you write.

Then maybe you're kill me.

Seor Madero excellence...

Seor Madero excellence...

No, no, no. Give it to me, give it to me.

Seor Madero...

No, no.

Seor Madero...

President Madero...

Comrade Madero...

Comrade Madero!

Comrade Madero...

Do you remember...

at the 23... June...

1909...?

In the house in Cuzco...

...where you hid youself...

and... waited for a man.

Jesus... Jos... Moran.

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