for riding one tractor than Bob was for selling twenty.

The old gentleman made a noise in his throat that corresponded to a
chuckle in a less belligerent man.

"Do you sell farm machinery over there?" The store faced the line; and
he nodded toward the Mexican side.

"Yes," answered Bob.

"Know the country pretty well?"

"Yes." The young man rose up with the wrench in his hand, and looked
for the first time into the gray-blue eyes under the bushy iron-gray
brows. "The country is the same as it is on this side. The people
somewhat different."

"Any good chances to invest money over there?" asked the old gentleman.

"I suppose so." Bob stopped to pick up another nut and started to
screw it on. "I'm not bothered much hunting for investments. But I
reckon there is a chance for a man with money anywhere."

"To spend it," added the other fellow, sharply. "Any place will do for
a fool and his money to part. But, young man, it is easier to earn
money with brains than it is to keep it without them."

Bob's eyes looking past the old gentleman saw a youngish woman dressed
in widow's weeds--very expensive weeds--coming rapidly down the walk
from the hotel, and knew she was coming for the old man. As she came
nearer, Bob saw she had tawny yellow hair, with slate-coloured eyes and
a pious mouth. Her carriage was very erect, very ladylike, and
patently she was from the East.

"Oh, Uncle," she gurgled and, as the old gentleman turned, with a
little burst of enthusiasm she threw her arms about his neck.

"When did you get in, Evy?" The old gentleman managed to disengage the
arms without giving the appearance of heartlessness. His voice was
crabbed, but sounded as though it might be from the length of the vocal
cords rather than the shortness of disposition.

"Last night." There was an aggrieved touch of self-denying complaint
in the tone. "And the little hotel is perfectly wretched. I had such
a horrid room--and I felt so conspicuous alone. The landlady told me
you had been there looking for me this morning before I was up. I'm so
glad to see you, Uncle; just as soon as I heard of poor Aunt Ellen's
death I felt that I must come and look after you at any sacrifice."
There was a slight pause in which the old gentleman did not venture a
remark. "But, Uncle"--there was accusation in the tone--"why did you
ever come out to this awful country? The dust was simply awful--I
think some of my clothes are ruined."