and when the
woman who had been doing his work left him, he decided to bring the girl
to his place and let her earn her keep by cooking and washing. He no
longer felt any interest in her, and thought that perhaps she would marry
Juan Cardenas, the man who milked his cows and chopped wood for him. But
Catalina showed no interest in Juan. Instead, she emphatically rejected
all his advances, and displayed an abject, squaw-like devotion to Ramon's
welfare. Everything possible was done for his comfort without his asking.
The infant, now almost a year old, was trained not to cry in his presence,
and acquired a certain awe of him, watching him with large solemn eyes
whenever he was about. Ramon, reflecting that this was his son, set out to
make the baby's acquaintance, and became quite fond of it. He often played
with it in the evening.

He paid Catalina regular wages and she spent most of the money on clothes.
When she prepared herself for Church on Sunday she was a truly terrible
spectacle, clad in an ill-fitting ready-made suit of brilliant colour, and
wearing a cheap hat on which a dead parrot sprawled among artificial
poppies, while her swarthy face, heavily powdered, took on a purple tinge.
But about the place, dressed in clean calico, with a shawl over her
shoulders, she was really pretty. Her figure was a good one of peasant
type, and the acquisition of some shoes which fitted her revealed the fact
that she had inherited from her remote Castilian ancestry a small and
shapely foot and ankle.

Ramon could not help noticing all of these things, and so gradually he
became aware of Catalina again as a desirable woman, and one whom it was
easy for him to take.

After this his animal contentment was deeper than ever. He did not go to
town so often, for one of the restlessnesses which had driven him there
was removed. Often for weeks at a stretch he would not go at all unless it
was necessary to get some tools or supplies for the farm. Then rather than
take any of his men away from work, he would himself hitch up a team and
drive the five miles. Sitting hunched over on the spring-seat of a big
farm wagon, clad in overalls and a print shirt, with a wide hat tilted
against the sun and a cigarette dangling from his lips, he was
indistinguishable from any other _paisano_ on the road. This change in
appearance was helped by the fact that he had grown a heavy moustache.
Often, as he drove through the streets of the town, he would