Across the plaza, in Patrocinio Godoy y Godoy’s bucket of blood, the El Gaucho Bar, numerous less-than-upstanding locals had tied their horses to the hitching post outside and gathered to consume vast quantities of cheap beer and wine while awaiting the boardroom meeting’s outcome. Most notable among the boozers ensconced there was Jesus Dolores Martínez Vigil, a short, pudgy man of indeterminate old age sporting an old-fashioned greasy sombrero, a Villa moustache, and a heavy bulletproof vest made of thick hemp wrapped around his torso. Once the leader of an 1880s revolutionary outlaw group known as the Gorras Blancas, a contingent which had waged a guerrilla war against the cattle barons and government sharpies illegally taking over locally owned land grants, Jesus Etcetera was now pushing a hundred, or even more, nobody knew for certain. Some Chamisa Valley amateur historians, who claimed he had died years ago, actually suggested that the robust feisty little man who persisted in haunting the valley was merely Jesus Etcetera’s soul wandering through purgatory. Others believed that Jesus was very much alive and would one day spark a White Cap army renaissance that would banish all the outsiders, newcomers, thieves, cattle barons, land hustlers, and tourist hucksters like Rodey McQueen from the picturesque Midnight Mountain area once and for all.

— The Magic Journey by John Nichols (New Mexico Trilogy, #2)