With characteristic abruptness, he made his decision, but with no spoken word, no gesture, no emotion. He saw a long day's work before him. He would tackle it like a workman.
And immediately he felt buoyantly himself again. The matter was settled.
He washed vigorously. The cold water brought a ruddy glow to his face.
He whistled as he strode to the kitchen. He slapped the gentle-eyed
Ramon on the shoulder. Pancake batter hissed as it slopped over on the
stove.
"Cheer up, amigo!" he cried! "Had a good look at the sun this mornin'?"
"No, señor. I have made the breakfast, si."
"Well, she's out there, shinin' right down on Arizona."
"The señora?" queried Ramon, puzzled.
"No; the sun. Don't a mornin' like this make you feel like jumpin' clean out of your boots and over the fence?"
"Not until I have made the flapcake, Señor Lorry."
"Well, go the limit. Guess I'll roust out dad."