"I've been busy while you were gone," he announced. "Been down to
the pump-house every day laying that new intake. It was a nasty
job, too. I had Morales barbecue a cabrito for my lunch, and it
was good, but I'm hungry again." Austin attacked his meal with an
enthusiasm strange in him, for of late his appetite had grown as
errant as his habits. Ed boasted, in his clubs, that he was an
outdoor man, and he was wont to tell his friends that the rough
life was the life for him; but as a matter of fact he spent much
more time in San Antonio than he did at home, and each of his
sojourns at Las Palmas was devoted principally to sobering up from
his last visit to the city and to preparing for another. Nor was
he always sober even in his own house; Ed was a heavy and a
constant drinker at all times. What little exercise he took was
upon the back of a horse, and, as no one knew better than his
wife, the physical powers he once had were rapidly deteriorating.
By and by he inquired, vaguely: "Let's see, ... Where did you go
this time?"
"I went up to look over that Ygnacio tract."
"Oh yes. How did you find it?"
"Not very promising. It needs a lot of wells.
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