"What did you say this Pablo was?"

"He used to be a majordomo. That is, he was the foreman of the ranch
when we needed a foreman. We haven't needed Pablo for a long time, but
it doesn't cost much to keep him on the pay-roll, except when his
relatives come to visit him and stay a couple of weeks."

"And your father feeds them?"

"Certainly. Also, he houses them. It can't be helped. It's an old
custom."

"How long has Pablo been a pensioner?"

"From birth. He's mostly Indian, and all the work he ever did never hurt
him. But, then, he was never paid very much. He was born on the ranch
and has never been more than twenty miles from it. And his wife is our
cook. She has relatives, too."

The captain burst out laughing.

"But surely this Pablo has some use," he suggested.

"Well he feeds the dogs, and in order to season his _frijoles_ with the
salt of honest labor, he saddles my father's horse and leads him round to
the house every morning. Throughout the remainder of the day, he sits
outside the wall and, by following the sun, he manages to remain in the
shade. He watches the road to proclaim the arrival of visitors, smokes
cigarettes, and delivers caustic criticisms on the younger generation
when he can get anybody to listen to him."