son, but here no one overrules me. . . . Ah,
Frenchy, you are like all the rest of your countrymen! Once you get your
claws on a penny, it goes into your stocking, and nevermore sees
the light of day, even though they crucify you. . . ! Did I say five
dollars? Give him ten. I command it and that is enough."

The Frenchman paid, shrugging his shoulders, whilst his father-in-law,
satisfied with his triumph, fled to Buenos Aires. It was a good thing to
have it well understood that the ranch still belonged to Madariaga, the
Spaniard.

From one of these trips, he returned with a companion, a young German
who, according to him, knew everything and could do everything. His
son-in-law was working too hard. This Karl Hartrott would assist him
in the bookkeeping. Desnoyers accepted the situation, and in a few days
felt increasing esteem for the new incumbent.

Although they belonged to two unfriendly nations, it didn't matter.
There are good people everywhere, and this Karl was a subordinate worth
considering. He kept his distance from his equals, and was hard and
inflexible toward his inferiors. All his faculties seemed concentrated
in service and admiration for those above him. Scarcely would Madariaga
open his lips before the German's head began nodding in agreement,
anticipating his words. If he said anything funny, his clerk's laugh
would break forth in scandalous roars. With Desnoyers he appeared more
taciturn, working without stopping for hours at a time. As soon as he
saw the manager entering the office he would leap from his seat,
holding himself erect with military precision. He was always ready to
do anything whatever. Unasked, he spied on the workmen, reporting their
carelessness and mistakes. This last service did not especially please
his superior officer, but he appreciated it as a sign of interest in the
establishment.

The old man bragged triumphantly of the new acquisition, urging his
son-in-law also to rejoice.

"A very useful fellow, isn't he? . . . These gringoes from Germany
work well, know a good many things and cost little. Then, too, so
disciplined! so servile! . . . I am sorry to praise him so to you
because you are a Frenchy, and your nation has in them a very powerful
enemy. His people are a hard-shelled race."

Desnoyers replied with a shrug of indifference. His country was far
away, and so was Germany. Who knew if they would ever return! . . . They
were both Argentinians now, and ought to inte