house every day laying that new intake. It was a nasty job, too. I
had Morales barbecue a cabrito for my lunch, and it was good, but I'm
hungry again." Austin attacked his meal with an enthusiasm strange in
him, for of late his appetite had grown as errant as his habits. Ed
boasted, in his clubs, that he was an outdoor man, and he was wont to
tell his friends that the rough life was the life for him; but as a
matter of fact he spent much more time in San Antonio than he did at
home, and each of his sojourns at Las Palmas was devoted principally to
sobering up from his last visit to the city and to preparing for
another. Nor was he always sober even in his own house; Ed was a heavy
and a constant drinker at all times. What little exercise he took was
upon the back of a horse, and, as no one knew better than his wife, the
physical powers he once had were rapidly deteriorating.

By and by he inquired, vaguely: "Let's see, ... Where did you go this
time?"

"I went up to look over that Ygnacio tract."

"Oh yes. How did you find it?"

"Not very promising. It needs a lot of wells."

"I haven't been out that way since I was a boy. Think you'll lease it?"

"I don't know. I must find some place for those La Feria cattle."

Austin shook his head. "Better leave 'em where they are, until the
rebels take that country. I stand mighty well with them."

"That's the trouble," Alaire told him. "You stand too well--so well
that I want to get my stock out of Federal territory as soon as
possible."

Ed shrugged carelessly. "Suit yourself; they're your cows."

The meal went on with a desultory flow of small talk, during which the
husband indulged his thirst freely. Alaire told him about the accident
to her horse and the unpleasant ordeal she had suffered in the mesquite.

"Lucky you found somebody at the water-hole," Ed commented. "Who was
this Ranger? Never heard of the fellow," he commented on the name. "The
Rangers are nothing like they used to be."

"This fellow would do credit to any organization." As Alaire described
how expeditiously Law had made his arrest and handled his man, her
husband showed interest.

"Nicolas Anto, eh?" said he, "Who was his companero?"

"Panfilo Sanchez."

Ed started. "That's strange! They must have met accidentally."

"So they both declared. Why did you let Panfilo go?"

"We didn't need him here, and he was too good a man to lose, so--" Ed
found his wife's eyes fixed upon him, and dropped h