h other's waists. The
little estancia house stood, red-roofed and homelike, with green
paraiso trees about it. In the veranda Toffy was stretched in a
hammock, a pile of letters and newspapers from home beside him; Hopwood
appeared round the corner carrying cans of water for baths; while Ross,
their host, in a dress as nearly as possible resembling that of a
gaucho, was that moment disappearing indoors to make the evening
cocktail. He came to the door presently and shouted to the two men to
come in, and pointed out to them--as he had pointed out every evening
since they had arrived--his own skill in swizzling.

It was a curious coincidence that had led Peter and Christopherson to
Las Lomas. When they reached Buenos Ayres a very pleasant and
unexpected meeting occurred, for Peter met Chance, a man who had been
with him at Eton, on his way down to the river to go home. Chance had
lost his young wife a little while before, and was returning to England
to see what the voyage and a change would do to cure him of an almost
overwhelming grief, and his partner Ross was left behind to look after
the estancia. Ross was at the hotel also, and proved an excellent
fellow. And Chance suggested that Ogilvie and Christopherson should
return to Las Lomas with him and see something of the life in
Argentine, staying as long as they could, to keep Ross company until he
himself should return.

The invitation was accepted without hesitation, and it seemed that the
two travellers were in luck's way. The estancia was a snug little
place, amply watered by a river lying some miles above the last port
where the small river-steamer called. This port was nearer the
estancia than the railway station at Taco, and the last stage of the
journey, therefore, was made by steamer. The river was a wide, shallow
stream, very difficult of navigation. Nearly ten miles broad in some
parts, at its deepest it never gave soundings of more than five fathoms
of water. In dry weather it was possible in some places to drive a
cart across it, while in others the current was quick and dangerous.
It was full of shallows and sand-banks, and for some miles the course
of the little steamer was marked out by boughs of trees stuck into its
muddy bottom.

The steamer was a well-found craft compared with any others that had
navigated the river before, and was a new venture on the part of one
Purvis by name, who had lately acquired considerable property on the
ri