"Devil take me if there was ever such a shameless fellow," she cried, angrily. "He delights in tormenting me, and--Dios!--he is lazier than a snake. Work? Bah! He abhors it. All day long he snaps his revolver and pretends to be a bandido, and when he is not risking hell's fire in that way he is whirling his riata and jumping through it. Useless capers! He ropes the dog, he ropes the rose-bushes, he ropes fat Victoria, the cook, carrying a huge bowl of hot water to scald the ants' nest. Victoria's stomach is boiled red altogether, and so painful that when she comes near the stove she curses in a way to chill your blood. What does he do this morning but fling his wicked loop over a calf's head and break off one of its little horns. It was terrible; but Senor Austin only laughed and told him he was a fine vaquero." "Has Mr. Austin been here all the time?" "Yes." "Has he--drunk much?" "Um-m. No more than common. He is on the gallery now with his cocktails." "He knows I am at home?" "I told him." Alaire went on dressing. After a little she asked: "Has Benito finished branding the calves in the south pasture?" "He finished yesterday and sent the remuda to the Six Mile. Jose Sanchez will have completed the rodeo by this afternoon. Benito rode in last night to see you." "By the way, you know Jose's cousin, Panfilo?" "Si." "Why did he leave Las Palmas?" Dolores hesitated so long that her mistress turned upon her with a look of sharp inquiry. "He went to La Feria, senora." Then, in a lowered tone: "Mr. Austin ordered it. Suddenly, without warning, he sent him away, though Panfilo did not wish to go, Benito told me all about it." "Why was he transferred? Come! What ails your tongue, Dolores?" "Well, I keep my eyes open and my ears, too. I am no fool--" Dolores paused doubtfully. "Yes, yes!" Dolores drew closer. "Rosa Morales--you know the girl? Her father works the big pump-engine at the river. Well, he is not above anything, that man; not above selling his own flesh and blood, and the girl is no better. She thinks about nothing except men, and she attends all the bailes for miles around, on both sides of the river. Panfilo loved her; he was mad about her. That's why he came here to work." "They were engaged, were they not?" "Truly. And Panfilo was jealous of any man who looked at Rosa. Now you can understand why--he was sent away." Dolores's sharp eyes narrowed meaningly. "Senor Ed has been riding toward the river every day, lately. Panfilo was furious, so--" "I see! That is all I care to hear." Alone, Alaire stood motionless for some time, her face fixed, her eyes unseeing; but later, when she met her husband in the dining-room, her greeting was no less civil than usual. Ed acknowledged his wife's entrance with a careless nod, but did not trouble to remove his hands from his pockets. As he seated himself heavily at the table and with unsteady fingers shook the folds from his napkin, he said: