'Haven't my letters gone?' said Toffy. 'How on earth were they forgotten?'
'Toffy,' said Peter, 'when I meet you acting as a sandwich-man in Piccadilly, without a rag to your back or a shilling to your name, I shall say nothing more encouraging to you than, "It was just what I expected!"'
'But Ross always told me to leave my letters here when I wanted them posted!' said Toffy, scratching his head.
'It's an extraordinary thing,' said Peter, 'that you ever have a pillow to lay your head on; and you don't get that unless I heave it at you and prevent other fellows grabbing it! Who 's got your motorcar at home now? Some one, I suppose, you 've lent it to, and from whom you won't a bit like to ask it back. Are you getting any rent at all for Hulworth?' he went on, his wrath increasing as he spoke, 'or are you letting it slide for a bit because your tenants are hard up? Would you have a picture, or a bit of cracked china, or a bottle of wine left, if they had not been all tied up by some cunning ancestor and looked after by his executors? What has become of your horses, and why are you always put to sleep in the billiard-room of an hotel, or in the pantry, when other fellows get a decent bed provided for them? Why do they give you a room over the stables when country houses are full, where the coachman's wife asks you if you would like a little hot water in the morning, and regrets that the chimney doesn't draw very well? You were born that way, I suppose,' finished Peter hopelessly. 'I don't believe you were ever allowed a cradle if your nurse wanted it for any one else!'
'I rub along all right!' said Toffy apologetically.
'Look here,' said Peter, 'I 'll ride with these letters after Purvis, and ask him to post them; he 'll get down to Taco in time to catch the mail, and I can easily overtake him on the bayo.'
The Englishmen had learned to call their horses after their different shades of colour, in the usual Argentine way; the one Peter spoke of was a dun-coloured brute, three-parts English-bred.
Toffy protested, but Peter was obstinate. He had been worried and unsettled all day, and he believed that it would be a good thing to let off steam by a ride over the camp; besides which, Toffy's letters had taken a good two hours to write, and Peter guessed they were important. He could easily overtake Purvis with them before he should reach La Dorada.
'I 'll sit up and trim the lamp like a faithful wife, until you return,' said Toffy.
'You 'll go to bed, you ass!' shouted Peter. He was outside the house fastening the girths of the bayo as he spoke, and now he swung himself into the saddle and sent his horse forward with the characteristic quick movement of a hunting man.