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diff --git a/16674-h/16674-h.htm b/16674-h/16674-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..7a2d8bb --- /dev/null +++ b/16674-h/16674-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,17137 @@ +<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN"> +<html> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=ISO-8859-1"> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Pride of Palomar, by Peter B. Kyne</title> +<style type="text/css"> +BODY { color: Black; + background: White; + margin-right: 10%; + margin-left: 10%; + font-size: medium; + font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; + text-align: justify } + +P {text-indent: 4% } + +P.noindent {text-indent: 0% } + +P.poem {text-indent: 0%; margin-left: 10%; font-size: small } + +P.letter {font-size: small } + + hr.full { width: 100%; + height: 5px; } + a:link {color:#0000ff; + text-decoration:none} + link {color:#0000ff; + text-decoration:none} + a:visited {color:#0000ff; + text-decoration:none} + a:hover {color:#ff0000} + pre {font-size: 8pt;} + +</style> +</head> +<body> +<h1 align="center">The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Pride of Palomar, by Peter B. Kyne, +Illustrated by H. R. Ballinger and Dean Cornwell</h1> +<pre> +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at <a href = "https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a></pre> +<p>Title: The Pride of Palomar</p> +<p>Author: Peter B. Kyne</p> +<p>Release Date: September 8, 2005 [eBook #16674]</p> +<p>Language: English</p> +<p>Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1</p> +<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE PRIDE OF PALOMAR***</p> +<br><br><center><h3>E-text prepared by Al Haines</h3></center><br><br> +<hr class="full" noshade> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<A NAME="img-front"></A> +<CENTER> +<IMG SRC="images/img-front_a.jpg" ALT="Frontispiece" BORDER="2" WIDTH="422" HEIGHT="639"> +<H5> +[Frontispiece: The man—Don Miguel Farrel.] +</H5> +</CENTER> + +<BR><BR><BR><BR> + +<H1 ALIGN="center"> +The Pride of Palomar +</H1> + +<BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +By +</H3> + +<H2 ALIGN="center"> +Peter B. Kyne +</H2> + +<BR> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +<I>Author of Kindred of the Dust, etc.</I> +</H4> + +<BR><BR><BR><BR> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +ILLUSTRATED BY +<BR><BR> +H. R. BALLINGER +<BR><BR> +<I>and</I> +<BR><BR> +DEAN CORNWELL +</H4> + +<BR><BR><BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +COSMOPOLITAN BOOK CORPORATION +<BR><BR> +NEW YORK — MCMXXII +</H3> + +<BR><BR><BR><BR> + + + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +DEDICATION +</H3> + +<BR> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +FRANK L. MULGREW, ESQ.<BR> + THE BOHEMIAN CLUB<BR> + SAN FRANCISCO, CALIFORNIA +</P> + +<P CLASS="noident"> +DEAR FRIEND MUL.— +</P> + +<P> +I have at last finished writing "The Pride of Palomar." It isn't at +all what I wanted it to be; it isn't at all what I planned it to be, +but it does contain something of what you and I both feel, something of +what you wanted me to put into it. Indeed, I shall always wish to +think that it contains just a few faint little echoes of the spirit of +that old California that was fast vanishing when I first disturbed the +quiet of the Mission Dolores with infantile shrieks—when you first +gazed upon the redwood-studded hills of Sonoma County. +</P> + +<P> +You adventured with me in my quest for local color for "The Valley of +the Giants," in Northern California; you performed a similar service in +Southern California last summer and unearthed for me more local color, +more touches of tender sentiment than I could use. Therefore, "The +Pride of Palomar" is peculiarly your book. +</P> + +<P> +On a day a year ago, when the story was still so vague I could scarcely +find words in which to sketch for you an outline of the novel I +purposed writing, you said: "It will be a good story. I'm sold on it +already!" To you the <I>hacienda</I> of a Rancho Palomar will always bring +delightful recollections of the gracious hospitality of Señor Cave +Coutts, sitting at the head of that table hewed in the forties. Little +did Señor Coutts realize that he, the last of the dons in San Diego +County, was to furnish copy for my novel; that his pride of ancestry, +both American and Castilian, his love for his ancestral <I>hacienda</I> at +the Rancho Guajome, and his old-fashioned garden with the great +Bougainvillea in flower, were the ingredients necessary to the +production of what I trust will be a book with a mission. +</P> + +<P> +When we call again at the Moreno <I>hacienda</I> on the Rio San Luis Rey, +Carolina will not be there to metamorphose her home into a restaurant +and serve us <I>galina con arroz</I>, <I>tortillas</I> and <I>frijoles refritos</I>. +But if she should be, she will not answer, when asked the amount of the +score: "What you will, <I>señor</I>." Ah, no, Mul. Scoundrels devoid of +romance will have discovered her, and she will have opened an inn with +a Jap cook and the tariff will be <I>dos pesos y media</I>; there will be a +strange waiter and he will scowl at us and expect a large tip. And +Stephen Crane's brother, the genial judge, will have made his fortune +in the mine on the hill, and there will be no more California wine as a +first aid to digestion. +</P> + +<P> +I had intended to paint the picture that will remain longest in your +memory—the dim candle-light in the white-washed chapel at the Indian +Reservation at Pala, during Benediction of the Blessed Sacrament—the +young Indian Madonna, with her naked baby lying in her lap, while she +sang: +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> + "Come, Holy Ghost, creator blest,<BR> + And in my heart take up thy rest." +</P> + +<P> +But the picture was crowded out in the make-up. There was too much to +write about, and I was always over-set! I saw and felt, with you, and +regarded it as more poignantly pathetic, the tragedy of that little +handful of San Luisanos, herded away in the heart of those barren hills +to make way for the white man. And now the white man is almost gone +and Father Dominic's Angelus, ringing from Mission San Luis Rey, falls +upon the dull ear of a Japanese farmer, usurping that sweet valley, +hallowed by sentiment, by historical association, by the lives and +loves and ashes of the men and women who carved California from the +wilderness. +</P> + +<P> +I have given to this book the labor of love. I know it isn't +literature, Mul, but I have joyed in writing it and it has, at least, +the merit of sincerity. It is an expression of faith and for all its +faults and imperfections, I think you will find, tucked away in it +somewhere, a modicum of merit. I have tried to limn something, however +vague, of the beauty of the land we saw through boyish eyes before the +real estate agent had profaned it. +</P> + +<P> +You were born with a great love, a great reverence for beauty. That +must be because you were born in Sonoma County in the light of God's +smile. Each spring in California the dogwood blossoms are, for you, a +creamier white, the buckeye blossoms more numerous and fragrant, the +hills a trifle greener and the old order, the old places, the old +friends a little dearer. +</P> + +<P> +Wherefore, with much appreciation of your aid in its creation and of +your unfaltering friendship and affection, I dedicate "The Pride of +Palomar" to you. +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +Faithfully, +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +PETER B. KYNE. +</P> + +<BR><BR> + +<P> +SAN FRANCISCO +<BR> +JUNE 9, 1921. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<P> +<I>Acknowledgment is made of the indebtedness of the author for much of +the material used in this book to Mr. Montaville Flowers, author of +"The Japanese Conquest of American Opinion."</I> +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +P. B. K. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CONTENTS +</H3> + +<CENTER> + +<TABLE BORDER WIDTH="60%"> +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="center" VALIGN="top" WIDTH="15%"> <A HREF="#chap01"> I </A> </TD> +<TD ALIGN="center" VALIGN="top" WIDTH="15%"> <A HREF="#chap09"> IX </A> </TD> +<TD ALIGN="center" VALIGN="top" WIDTH="15%"> <A HREF="#chap17"> XVII </A> </TD> +<TD ALIGN="center" VALIGN="top" WIDTH="15%"> <A HREF="#chap25"> XXV </A> </TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="center" VALIGN="top" WIDTH="15%"> <A HREF="#chap02"> II </A> </TD> +<TD ALIGN="center" VALIGN="top" WIDTH="15%"> <A HREF="#chap10"> X </A> </TD> +<TD ALIGN="center" VALIGN="top" WIDTH="15%"> <A HREF="#chap18"> XVIII </A> </TD> +<TD ALIGN="center" VALIGN="top" WIDTH="15%"> <A HREF="#chap26"> XXVI </A> </TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="center" VALIGN="top" WIDTH="15%"> <A HREF="#chap03"> III </A> </TD> +<TD ALIGN="center" VALIGN="top" WIDTH="15%"> <A HREF="#chap11"> XI </A> </TD> +<TD ALIGN="center" VALIGN="top" WIDTH="15%"> <A HREF="#chap19"> XIX </A> </TD> +<TD ALIGN="center" VALIGN="top" WIDTH="15%"> <A HREF="#chap27"> XXVII </A> </TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="center" VALIGN="top" WIDTH="15%"> <A HREF="#chap04"> IV </A> </TD> +<TD ALIGN="center" VALIGN="top" WIDTH="15%"> <A HREF="#chap12"> XII </A> </TD> +<TD ALIGN="center" VALIGN="top" WIDTH="15%"> <A HREF="#chap20"> XX </A> </TD> +<TD ALIGN="center" VALIGN="top" WIDTH="15%"> <A HREF="#chap28"> XXVIII </A> </TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="center" VALIGN="top" WIDTH="15%"> <A HREF="#chap05"> V </A> </TD> +<TD ALIGN="center" VALIGN="top" WIDTH="15%"> <A HREF="#chap13"> XIII </A> </TD> +<TD ALIGN="center" VALIGN="top" WIDTH="15%"> <A HREF="#chap21"> XXI </A> </TD> +<TD ALIGN="center" VALIGN="top" WIDTH="15%"> <A HREF="#chap29"> XXIX </A> </TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="center" VALIGN="top" WIDTH="15%"> <A HREF="#chap06"> VI </A> </TD> +<TD ALIGN="center" VALIGN="top" WIDTH="15%"> <A HREF="#chap14"> XIV </A> </TD> +<TD ALIGN="center" VALIGN="top" WIDTH="15%"> <A HREF="#chap22"> XXII </A> </TD> +<TD ALIGN="center" VALIGN="top" WIDTH="15%"> <A HREF="#chap30"> XXX </A> </TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="center" VALIGN="top" WIDTH="15%"> <A HREF="#chap07"> VII </A> </TD> +<TD ALIGN="center" VALIGN="top" WIDTH="15%"> <A HREF="#chap15"> XV </A> </TD> +<TD ALIGN="center" VALIGN="top" WIDTH="15%"> <A HREF="#chap23"> XXIII </A> </TD> +<TD ALIGN="center" VALIGN="top" WIDTH="15%"> <A HREF="#chap31"> XXXI </A> </TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="center" VALIGN="top" WIDTH="15%"> <A HREF="#chap08"> VIII </A> </TD> +<TD ALIGN="center" VALIGN="top" WIDTH="15%"> <A HREF="#chap16"> XVI </A> </TD> +<TD ALIGN="center" VALIGN="top" WIDTH="15%"> <A HREF="#chap24"> XXIV </A> </TD> +<TD ALIGN="center" VALIGN="top" WIDTH="15%"> <A HREF="#chap32"> XXXII </A> </TD> +</TR> + +</TABLE> + +</CENTER> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE ILLUSTRATIONS +</H3> + +<H3> +<A HREF="#img-front"> +The Man—Don Miguel Farrel . . . . <I>Frontispiece</I> +</A> +</H3> + +<H3> +<A HREF="#img-182"> +Here amidst the golden romance of the old mission,<BR> + the girl suddenly understood Don Mike +</A> +</H3> + +<H3> +<A HREF="#img-278"> +The Girl—Kay Parker +</A> +</H3> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap01"></A> +<H1 ALIGN="center"> +THE PRIDE of PALOMAR +</H1> + +<BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +I +</H3> + +<P> +For the first time in sixty years, Pablo Artelan, the majordomo of the +Rancho Palomar, was troubled of soul at the approach of winter. Old +Don Miguel Farrel had observed signs of mental travail in Pablo for a +month past, and was at a loss to account for them. He knew Pablo +possessed one extra pair of overalls, brand-new, two pairs of boots +which young Don Miguel had bequeathed him when the Great White Father +at Washington had summoned the boy to the war in April of 1917, three +chambray shirts in an excellent state of repair, half of a fat steer +jerked, a full bag of Bayo beans, and a string of red chilli-peppers +pendant from the rafters of an adobe shack which Pablo and his wife, +Carolina, occupied rent free. Certainly (thought old Don Miguel) life +could hold no problems for one of Pablo's race thus pleasantly situated. +</P> + +<P> +Coming upon Pablo this morning, as the latter sat in his favorite seat +under the catalpa tree just outside the wall of the ancient adobe +compound, where he could command a view of the white wagon-road winding +down the valley of the San Gregorio, Don Miguel decided to question his +ancient retainer. +</P> + +<P> +"My good Pablo," he queried, "what has come over thee of late? Thou +art of a mien as sorrowful as that of a sick steer. Can it be that thy +stomach refuses longer to digest thy food? Come; permit me to examine +thy teeth. Yes, by my soul; therein lies the secret. Thou hast a +toothache and decline to complain, thinking that, by thy silence, I +shall be saved a dentist's bill." But Pablo shook his head in +negation. "Come!" roared old Don Miguel. "Open thy mouth!" +</P> + +<P> +Pablo rose creakily and opened a mouth in which not a tooth was +missing. Old Don Miguel made a most minute examination, but failed to +discover the slightest evidence of deterioration. +</P> + +<P> +"Blood of the devil!" he cried, disgusted beyond measure. "Out with +thy secret! It has annoyed me for a month." +</P> + +<P> +"The ache is not in my teeth, Don Miguel. It is here." And Pablo laid +a swarthy hand upon his torso. "There is a sadness in my heart, Don +Miguel. Two years has Don Mike been with the soldiers. Is it not time +that he returned to us?" +</P> + +<P> +Don Miguel's aristocratic old face softened. +</P> + +<P> +"So that is what disturbs thee, my Pablo?" +</P> + +<P> +Pablo nodded miserably, seated himself, and resumed his task of +fashioning the hondo of a new rawhide riata. +</P> + +<P> +"It is a very dry year," he complained. "Never before have I seen +December arrive ere the grass in the San Gregorio was green with the +October rains. Everything is burned; the streams and the springs have +dried up, and for a month I have listened to hear the quail call on the +hillside yonder. But I listen in vain. The quail have moved to +another range." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, what of it, Pablo?" +</P> + +<P> +"How our beloved Don Mike enjoyed the quail-shooting in the fall! +Should he return now to the Palomar, there will be no quail to shoot." +He wagged his gray head sorrowfully. "Don Mike will think that, with +the years, laziness and ingratitude have descended upon old Pablo. +Truly, Satan afflicts me." And he cursed with great depth of +feeling—in English. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, poor boy," old Don Miguel agreed; "he will miss more than the +quail-shooting when he returns—if he should return. They sent him to +Siberia to fight the Bolsheviki." +</P> + +<P> +"What sort of country is this where Don Mike slays our enemy?" Pablo +queried. +</P> + +<P> +"It is always winter there, Pablo. It is inhabited by a wild race of +men with much whiskers." +</P> + +<P> +"Ah, our poor Don Mike! And he a child of the sun!" +</P> + +<P> +"He but does his duty," old Don Miguel replied proudly. "He adds to +the fame of an illustrious family, noted throughout the centuries for +the gallantry of its warriors." +</P> + +<P> +"A small comfort, Don Miguel, if our Don Mike comes not again to those +that love him." +</P> + +<P> +"Pray for him," the old Don suggested piously. +</P> + +<P> +Fell a silence. Then, +</P> + +<P> +"Don Miguel, yonder comes one over the trail from El Toro." +</P> + +<P> +Don Miguel gazed across the valley to the crest of the hills. There, +against the sky-line, a solitary horseman showed. Pablo cupped his +hands over his eyes and gazed long and steadily. +</P> + +<P> +"It is Tony Moreno," he said, while the man was still a mile distant. +"I know that scuffling cripple of a horse he rides." +</P> + +<P> +Don Miguel seated himself On the bench beside Pablo and awaited the +arrival of the horseman. As he drew nearer, the Don saw that Pablo was +right. +</P> + +<P> +"Now, what news does that vagabond bear?" he muttered. "Assuredly he +brings a telegram; otherwise the devil himself could not induce that +lazy wastrel to ride twenty miles." +</P> + +<P> +"Of a truth you are right, Don Miguel. Tony Moreno is the only man in +El Toro who is forever out of a job, and the agent of the telegraph +company calls upon him always to deliver messages of importance." +</P> + +<P> +With the Don, he awaited, with vague apprehension, the arrival of Tony +Moreno. As the latter pulled his sweating horse up before them, they +rose and gazed upon him questioningly. Tony Moreno, on his part, +doffed his shabby sombrero with his right hand and murmured courteously, +</P> + +<P> +"<I>Buenas tardes</I>, Don Miguel." +</P> + +<P> +Pablo he ignored. With his left hand, he caught a yellow envelope as +it fell from under the hat. +</P> + +<P> +"Good-afternoon, Moreno." Don Miguel returned his salutation with a +gravity he felt incumbent upon one of his station to assume when +addressing a social inferior. "You bring me a telegram?" He spoke in +English, for the sole purpose of indicating to the messenger that the +gulf between them could not be spanned by the bridge of their mother +tongue. He suspected Tony Moreno very strongly of having stolen a +yearling from him many years ago. +</P> + +<P> +Tony Moreno remembered his manners, and dismounted before handing Don +Miguel the telegram. +</P> + +<P> +"The delivery charges?" Don Miguel queried courteously. +</P> + +<P> +"Nothing, Don Miguel." Moreno's voice was strangely subdued. "It is a +pleasure to serve you, <I>señor</I>." +</P> + +<P> +"You are very kind." And Don Miguel thrust the telegram, unopened, +into his pocket. "However," he continued, "it will please me, Moreno, +if you accept this slight token of my appreciation." And he handed the +messenger a five-dollar bill. The don was a proud man, and disliked +being under obligation to the Tony Morenos of this world. Tony +protested, but the don stood his ground, silently insistent, and, in +the end, the other pouched the bill, and rode away. Don Miguel seated +himself once more beside his retainer and drew forth the telegram. +</P> + +<P> +"It must be evil news," he murmured, with the shade of a tremor in his +musical voice; "otherwise, that fellow could not have felt so much pity +for me that it moved him to decline a gratuity." +</P> + +<P> +"Read, Don Miguel!" Pablo croaked. "Read!" +</P> + +<P> +Don Miguel read. Then he carefully folded the telegram and replaced it +in the envelope; as deliberately, he returned the envelope to his +pocket. Suddenly his hands gripped the bench, and he trembled +violently. +</P> + +<P> +"Don Mike is dead?" old Pablo queried softly. He possessed all the +acute intuition of a primitive people. +</P> + +<P> +Don Miguel did not reply; so presently Pablo turned his head and gazed +up into the master's face. Then he knew—his fingers trembled slightly +as he returned to work on the hondo, and, for a long time, no sound +broke the silence save the song of an oriole in the catalpa tree. +</P> + +<P> +Suddenly, the sound for which old Pablo had waited so long burst forth +from the sage-clad hillside. It was a cock quail calling, and, to the +majordomo, it seemed to say: "Don Mike! Come home! Don Mike! Come +home!" +</P> + +<P> +"Ah, little truant, who has told you that you are safe?" Pablo cried in +agony. "For Don Mike shall not come home—no, no—never any more!" +</P> + +<P> +His Indian stoicism broke at last; he clasped his hands and fell to his +knees beside the bench, sobbing aloud. +</P> + +<P> +Don Miguel regarded him not, and when Pablo's babbling became +incoherent, the aged master of Palomar controlled his twitching hands +sufficiently to roll and light a cigarette. Then he reread the +telegram. +</P> + +<P> +Yes; it was true. It was from Washington, and signed by the +adjutant-general; it informed Don Miguel José Farrel, with regret, that +his son, First Sergeant Miguel José Maria Federico Noriaga Farrel, +Number 765,438, had been killed in action in Siberia on the fourth +instant. +</P> + +<P> +"At least," the old don murmured, "he died like a gentleman. Had he +returned to the Rancho Palomar, he could not have continued to live +like one. Oh, my son, my son!" +</P> + +<P> +He rose blindly and groped his way along the wall until he came to the +inset gate leading into the patio; like a stricken animal retreating to +its lair, he sought the privacy of his old-fashioned garden, where none +might intrude upon his grief. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap02"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +II +</H3> + + +<P> +First Sergeant Michael Joseph Farrel entered the orderly-room and saluted +his captain, who sat, with his chair tilted back, staring mournfully at +the opposite wall. +</P> + +<P> +"I have to report, sir, that I have personally delivered the battery +records, correctly sorted, labeled, and securely crated, to the +demobilization office. The typewriter, field-desk, and stationery have +been turned in, and here are the receipts." +</P> + +<P> +The captain tucked the receipts in his blouse pocket. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, Sergeant, I dare say that marks the completion of your duties—all +but the last formation." He glanced at his wrist-watch. "Fall in the +battery and call the roll. By that time, I will have organized my +farewell speech to the men. Hope I can deliver it without making a fool +of myself." +</P> + +<P> +"Very well, sir." +</P> + +<P> +The first sergeant stepped out of the orderly-room and blew three long +blasts on his whistle—his signal to the battery to "fall in." The men +came out of the demobilization-shacks with alacrity and formed within a +minute; without command, they "dressed" to the right and straightened the +line. Farrel stepped to the right of it, glanced down the long row of +silent, eager men, and commanded, +</P> + +<P> +"Front!" +</P> + +<P> +Nearly two hundred heads described a quarter circle. +</P> + +<P> +Farrel stepped lithely down the long front to the geometrical center of +the formation, made a right-face, walked six paces, executed an +about-face, and announced complainingly: +</P> + +<P> +"Well, I've barked at you for eighteen months—and finally you made it +snappy. On the last day of your service, you manage to fall in within +the time-limit and dress the line perfectly. I congratulate you." Covert +grins greeted his ironical sally. He continued: "I'm going to say +good-by to those of you who think there are worse tops in the service +than I. To those who did not take kindly to my methods, I have no +apologies to offer. I gave everybody a square deal, and for the +information of some half-dozen Hot-spurs who have vowed to give me the +beating of my life the day we should be demobilized, I take pleasure in +announcing that I will be the first man to be discharged, that there is a +nice clear space between these two demobilization-shacks and the ground +is not too hard, that there will be no guards to interfere, and if any +man with the right to call himself 'Mister' desires to air his grievance, +he can make his engagement now, and I shall be at his service at the hour +stipulated. Does anybody make me an offer?" He stood there, balanced +nicely on the balls of his feet, cool, alert, glancing interestedly up +and down the battery front. "What?" he bantered, "nobody bids? Well, +I'm glad of that. I part friends with everybody. Call rolls!" +</P> + +<P> +The section-chiefs called the rolls of their sections and reported them +present. Farrel stepped to the door of the orderly-room. +</P> + +<P> +"The men are waiting for the captain," he reported. +</P> + +<P> +"Sergeant Farrel," that bedeviled individual replied frantically, "I +can't do it. You'll have to do it for me." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, sir; I understand." +</P> + +<P> +Farrel returned to the battery, brought them to attention, and said: +</P> + +<P> +"The skipper wants to say good-by, men, but he isn't up to the job. He's +afraid to tackle it; so he has asked me to wish you light duty, heavy +pay, and double rations in civil life. He has asked me to say to you +that he loves you all and will not soon forget such soldiers as you have +proved yourselves to be." +</P> + +<P> +"Three for the Skipper! Give him three and a tiger!" somebody pleaded, +and the cheers were given with a hearty generosity which even the most +disgruntled organization can develop on the day of demobilization. +</P> + +<P> +The skipper came to the door of the orderly-room. +</P> + +<P> +"Good-by, good luck, and God bless you, lads!" he shouted, and nod with +the discharges under his arm, while the battery "counted off," and, in +command of Farrel (the lieutenants had already been demobilized), marched +to the pay-tables. As they emerged from the paymaster's shack, they +scattered singly, in little groups, back to the demobilization-shacks. +Presently, bearing straw suitcases, "tin" helmets, and gas-masks (these +latter articles presented to them by a paternal government as souvenirs +of their service), they drifted out through the Presidio gate, where the +world swallowed them. +</P> + +<P> +Although he had been the first man in the battery to receive his +discharge, Farrel was the last man to leave the Presidio. He waited +until the captain, having distributed the discharges, came out of the +pay-office and repaired again to his deserted orderly-room; whereupon the +former first sergeant followed him. +</P> + +<P> +"I hesitate to obtrude, sir," he announced, as he entered the room, "but +whether the captain likes it or not, he'll have to say good-by to me. I +have attended to everything I can think of, sir; so, unless the captain +has some further use for me, I shall be jogging along." +</P> + +<P> +"Farrel," the captain declared, "if I had ever had a doubt as to why I +made you top cutter of B battery, that last remark of yours would have +dissipated it. Please do not be in a hurry. Sit down and mourn with me +for a little while." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, I'll sit down with you, sir, but I'll be hanged if I'll be +mournful. I'm too happy in the knowledge that I'm going home." +</P> + +<P> +"Where is your home, sergeant?" +</P> + +<P> +"In San Marcos County, in the southern part of the state. After two +years of Siberia and four days of this San Francisco fog, I'm fed up on +low temperatures, and, by the holy poker, I want to go home. It isn't +much of a home—just a quaint, old, crumbling adobe ruin, but it's home, +and it's mine. Yes, sir; I'm going home and sleep in the bed my +great-greatgrandfather was born in." +</P> + +<P> +"If I had a bed that old, I'd fumigate it," the captain declared. Like +all regular army officers, he was a very devil of a fellow for +sanitation. "Do you worship your ancestors, Farrel?" +</P> + +<P> +"Well, come to think of it, I have rather a reverence for 'the ashes of +my fathers and the temples of my gods.'" +</P> + +<P> +"So have the Chinese. Among Americans, however, I thought all that sort +of thing was confined to the descendants of the Pilgrim Fathers." +</P> + +<P> +"If I had an ancestor who had been a Pilgrim Father," Farrel declared, +"I'd locate his grave and build a garbage-incinerator on it." +</P> + +<P> +"What's your grouch against the Pilgrim Fathers?" +</P> + +<P> +"They let their religion get on top of them, and they took all the joy +out of life. My Catalonian ancestors, on the other hand, while taking +their religion seriously, never permitted it to interfere with a +<I>fiesta</I>. They were what might be called 'regular fellows.'" +</P> + +<P> +"Your Catalonian ancestors? Why, I thought you were black Irish, Farrel?" +</P> + +<P> +"The first of my line that I know anything about was a lieutenant in the +force that marched overland from Mexico to California under command of +Don Gaspar de Portola. Don Gaspar was accompanied by Fray Junipero +Serra. They carried a sword and a cross respectively, and arrived in San +Diego on July first, 1769. So, you see, I'm a real Californian." +</P> + +<P> +"You mean Spanish-Californian." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, hardly in the sense that most people use that term, sir. We have +never intermarried with Mexican or Indian, and until my grandfather +Farrel arrived at the ranch and refused to go away until my grandmother +Noriaga went with him, we were pure-bred Spanish blonds. My grandmother +had red hair, brown eyes, and a skin as white as an old bleached-linen +napkin. Grandfather Farrel is the fellow to whom I am indebted for my +saddle-colored complexion." +</P> + +<P> +"Siberia has bleached you considerably. I should say you're an ordinary +brunet now." +</P> + +<P> +Farrel removed his overseas cap and ran long fingers through his hair. +</P> + +<P> +"If I had a strain of Indian in me, sir," he explained, "my hair would be +straight, thick, coarse, and blue-black. You will observe that it is +wavy, a medium crop, of average fineness, and jet black." +</P> + +<P> +The captain laughed at his frankness. +</P> + +<P> +"Very well, Farrel; I'll admit you're clean-strain white. But tell me: +How much of you is Latin and how much Farrel?" +</P> + +<P> +It was Farrel's turn to chuckle now. +</P> + +<P> +"Seriously, I cannot answer that question. My grandmother, as I have +stated, was pure-bred Castilian or Catalonian, for I suppose they mixed. +The original Michael Joseph Farrel (I am the third of the name) was +Tipperary Irish, and could trace his ancestry back to the fairies—to +hear him tell it. But one can never be quite certain how much Spanish +there is in an Irishman from the west, so I have always started with the +premise that the result of that marriage—my father—was three-fifths +Latin. Father married a Galvez, who was half Scotch; so I suppose I'm an +American." +</P> + +<P> +"I should like to see you on your native heath, Farrel. Does your dad +still wear a conical-crowned sombrero, bell-shaped trousers, bolero +jacket, and all that sort of thing?" +</P> + +<P> +"No, sir. The original Mike insisted upon wearing regular trousers and +hats. He had all of the prejudices of his race, and regarded folks who +did things differently from him as inferior people. He was a lieutenant +on a British sloop-of-war that was wrecked on the coast of San Marcos +County in the early 'Forties. All hands were drowned, with the exception +of my grandfather, who was a very contrary man. He swam ashore and +strolled up to the hacienda of the Rancho Palomar, arriving just before +luncheon. What with a twenty-mile hike in the sun, he was dry by the +time he arrived, and in his uniform, although somewhat bedraggled, he +looked gay enough to make a hit with my great-grandfather Noriaga, who +invited him to luncheon and begged him to stay a while. Michael Joseph +liked the place; so he stayed. You see, there were thousands of horses +on the ranch and, like all sailors, he had equestrian ambitions." +</P> + +<P> +"Great snakes! It must have been a sizable place." +</P> + +<P> +"It was. The original Mexican grant was twenty leagues square." +</P> + +<P> +"I take it, then, that the estate has dwindled in size." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, yes, certainly. My great-grandfather Noriaga, Michael Joseph I, and +Michael Joseph II shot craps with it, and bet it on horse-races, and gave +it away for wedding-doweries, and, in general, did their little best to +put the Farrel posterity out in the mesquite with the last of the Mission +Indians." +</P> + +<P> +"How much of this principality have you left?" +</P> + +<P> +"I do not know. When I enlisted, we had a hundred thousand acres of the +finest valley and rolling grazing-land in California and the hacienda +that was built in 1782. But I've been gone two years, and haven't heard +from home for five months." +</P> + +<P> +"Mortgaged?" +</P> + +<P> +"Of course. The Farrels never worked while money could be raised at ten +per cent. Neither did the Noriagas. You might as well attempt to yoke +an elk and teach him how to haul a cart." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, nonsense, Farrel! You're the hardest-working man I have ever known." +</P> + +<P> +Farrel smiled boyishly. +</P> + +<P> +"That was in Siberia, and I had to hustle to keep warm. But I know I'll +not be home six months before that delicious <I>mañana</I> spirit will settle +over me again, like mildew on old boots." +</P> + +<P> +The captain shook his head. +</P> + +<P> +"Any man who can see so clearly the economic faults of his race and +nevertheless sympathize with them is not one to be lulled to the ruin +that has overtaken practically all of the old native California families. +That strain of Celt and Gael in you will triumph over the easy-going +Latin." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, perhaps. And two years in the army has helped tremendously to +eradicate an inherited tendency toward procrastination." +</P> + +<P> +"I shall like to think that I had something to do with that," the officer +answered. "What are your plans?" +</P> + +<P> +"Well, sir, this hungry world must be fed by the United States for the +next ten years, and I have an idea that the Rancho Palomar can pull +itself out of the hole with beef cattle. My father has always raised +short-legged, long-horned scrubs, descendants of the old Mexican breeds, +and there is no money in that sort of stock. If I can induce him to turn +the ranch over to me, I'll try to raise sufficient money to buy a couple +of car-loads of pure-bred Hereford bulls and grade up that scrub stock; +in four or five years I'll have steers that will weigh eighteen hundred +to two thousand pounds on the hoof, instead of the little +eight-hundred-pounders that have swindled us for a hundred years." +</P> + +<P> +"How many head of cattle can you run on your ranch?" +</P> + +<P> +"About ten thousand—one to every ten acres. If I could develop water +for irrigation in the San Gregorio valley, I could raise alfalfa and +lot-feed a couple of thousand more." +</P> + +<P> +"What is the ranch worth?" +</P> + +<P> +"About eight per acre is the average price of good cattle-range nowadays. +With plenty of water for irrigation, the valley-land would be worth five +hundred dollars an acre. It's as rich as cream, and will grow +anything—with water." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, I hope your dad takes a back seat and gives you a free hand, +Farrel. I think you'll make good with half a chance." +</P> + +<P> +"I feel that way also," Farrel replied seriously. +</P> + +<P> +"Are you going south to-night?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, no. Indeed not! I don't want to go home in the dark, sir." The +captain was puzzled. "Because I love my California, and I haven't seen +her for two years," Farrel replied, to the other's unspoken query. "It's +been so foggy since we landed in San Francisco I've had a hard job making +my way round the Presidio. But if I take the eight-o'clock train +tomorrow morning, I'll run out of the fog-belt in forty-five minutes and +be in the sunshine for the remainder of the journey. Yes, by +Jupiter—and for the remainder of my life!" +</P> + +<P> +"You want to feast your eyes on the countryside, eh?" +</P> + +<P> +"I do. It's April, and I want to see the Salinas valley with its oaks; I +want to see the bench-lands with the grape-vines just budding; I want to +see some bald-faced cows clinging to the Santa Barbara hillsides, and I +want to meet some fellow on the train who speaks the language of my +tribe." +</P> + +<P> +"Farrel, you're all Irish. You're romantic and poetical, and you feel +the call of kind to kind. That's distinctly a Celtic trait." +</P> + +<P> +"<I>Quién sabe</I>? But I have a great yearning to speak Spanish with +somebody. It's my mother tongue." +</P> + +<P> +"There must be another reason," the captain bantered him. "Sure there +isn't a girl somewhere along the right of way and you are fearful, if you +take the night-train, that the porter may fail to waken you in time to +wave to her as you go by her station?" +</P> + +<P> +Farrel shook his head. +</P> + +<P> +"There's another reason, but that isn't it. Captain, haven't you been +visualizing every little detail of your home-coming?" +</P> + +<P> +"You forget, Farrel, that I'm a regular-army man, and we poor devils get +accustomed to being uprooted. I've learned not to build castles in +Spain, and I never believe I'm going to get a leave until the old man +hands me the order. Even then, I'm always fearful of an order recalling +it." +</P> + +<P> +"You're missing a lot of happiness, sir. Why, I really believe I've had +more fun out of the anticipation of my home-coming than I may get out of +the realization. I've planned every detail for months, and, if anything +slips, I'm liable to sit right down and bawl like a kid." +</P> + +<P> +"Let's listen to your plan of operations, Farrel," the captain suggested. +"I'll never have one myself, in all probability, but I'm child enough to +want to listen to yours." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, in the first place, I haven't communicated with my father since +landing here. He doesn't know I'm back in California, and I do not want +him to know until I drop in on him." +</P> + +<P> +"And your mother, Farrel?"' +</P> + +<P> +"Died when I was a little chap. No brothers or sisters. Well, if I had +written him or wired him when I first arrived, he would have had a week +of the most damnable suspense, because, owing to the uncertainty of the +exact date of our demobilization, I could not have informed him of the +exact time of my arrival home. Consequently, he'd have had old Carolina, +our cook, dishing up nightly fearful quantities of the sort of grub I was +raised on. And that would be wasteful. Also, he'd sit under the catalpa +tree outside the western wall of the hacienda and never take his eyes off +the highway from El Toro or the trail from Sespe. And every night after +the sun had set and I'd failed to show up, he'd go to bed heavy-hearted. +Suspense is hard on an old man, sir." +</P> + +<P> +"On young men, too. Go on." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, I'll drop off the train to-morrow afternoon about four o'clock at +a lonely little flag-station called Sespe. After the train leaves Sespe, +it runs south-west for almost twenty miles to the coast, and turns south +to El Toro. Nearly everybody enters the San Gregorio from El Toro, but, +via the short-cut trail from Sespe, I can hike it home in three hours and +arrive absolutely unannounced and unheralded. +</P> + +<P> +"Now, as I pop up over the mile-high ridge back of Sespe, I'll be looking +down on the San Gregorio while the last of the sunlight still lingers +there. You see, sir, I'm only looking at an old picture I've always +loved. Tucked away down in the heart of the valley, there is an old ruin +of a mission—the Mission de la Madre Dolorosa—the Mother of Sorrows. +The light will be shining on its dirty white walls and red-tiled roof, +and I'll sit me down in the shade of a manzanita bush and wait, because +that's my valley and I know what's coming. +</P> + +<P> +"Exactly at six o'clock, I shall see a figure come out on the roof of the +mission and stand in front of the old gallows-frame on which hang eight +chimes that were carried in on mules from the City of Mexico when +Junipero Serra planted the cross of Catholicism at San Diego, in 1769. +That distant figure will be Brother Flavio, of the Franciscan Order, and +the old boy is going to ramp up and down in front of those chimes with a +hammer and give me a concert. He'll bang out 'Adeste Fideles' and +'Gloria in Excelsis.' That's a cinch, because he's a creature of habit. +Occasionally he plays 'Lead, Kindly Light' and 'Ave Maria'!" +</P> + +<P> +Farrel paused, a faint smile of amusement fringing his handsome mouth. +He rolled and lighted a cigarette and continued: +</P> + +<P> +"My father wrote me that old Brother Flavio, after a terrible battle with +his own conscience and at the risk of being hove out of the valley by his +indignant superior, Father Dominic, was practising 'Hail, The Conquering +Hero Comes!' against the day of my home-coming. I wrote father to tell +Brother Flavio to cut that out and substitute 'In the Good Old +Summertime' if he wanted to make a hit with me. Awfully good old hunks, +Brother Flavio! He knows I like those old chimes, and, when I'm home, he +most certainly bangs them so the melody will carry clear up to the +Palomar." +</P> + +<P> +The captain was gazing with increasing amazement upon his former first +sergeant. After eighteen months, he had discovered a man he had not +known heretofore." +</P> + +<P> +"And after the 'Angelus'—what?" he demanded. +</P> + +<P> +Farrel's smug little smile of complacency had broadened. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, sir, when Brother Flavio pegs out, I'll get up and run down to the +Mission, where Father Dominic, Father Andreas, Brother Flavio, Brother +Anthony, and Brother Benedict will all extend a welcome and muss me up, +and we'll all talk at once and get nowhere with the conversation for the +first five minutes. Brother Anthony is just a little bit—ah—nutty, but +harmless. He'll want to know how many men I've killed, and I'll tell him +two hundred and nineteen. He has a leaning toward odd numbers, as +tending more toward exactitude. Right away, he'll go into the chapel and +pray for their souls, and while he's at this pious exercise, Father +Dominic will dig up a bottle of old wine that's too good for a nut like +Brother Anthony, and we'll sit on a bench in the mission garden in the +shade of the largest bougainvillea in the world and tuck away the wine. +Between tucks, Father Dominic will inquire casually into the state of my +soul, and the information thus elicited will scandalize the old saint. +The only way I can square myself is to go into the chapel with them and +give thanks for my escape from the Bolsheviki. +</P> + +<P> +"By that time, it will be a quarter of seven and dark, so Father Dominic +will crank up a prehistoric little automobile my father gave him in order +that he might spread himself over San Marcos County on Sundays and say +two masses. I have a notion that the task of keeping that old car in +running order has upset Brother Anthony's mental balance. He used to be +a blacksmith's helper in El Toro in his youth, and therefore is supposed +to be a mechanic in his old age." +</P> + +<P> +"Then the old padre drives you home, eh?" the captain suggested. +</P> + +<P> +"He does. Providentially, it is now the cool of the evening. The San +Gregorio is warm enough, for all practical purposes, even on a day in +April, and, knowing this, I am grateful to myself for timing my arrival +after the heat of the day. Father Dominic is grateful also. The old man +wears thin sandals, and on hot days he suffers continuous martyrdom from +the heat of that little motor. He is always begging Satan to fly away +with that hot-foot accelerator. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, arrived home, I greet my father alone in the patio. Father +Dominic, meanwhile, sits outside in his flivver and permits the motor to +roar, just to let my father know he's there, although not for money +enough to restore his mission would he butt in on us at that moment. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, my father will not be able to hear a word I say until Padre +Dominic shuts off his motor; so my father will yell at him and ask him +what the devil he's doing out there and to come in, and be quick about +it, or he'll throw his share of the dinner to the hogs. We always dine +at seven; so we'll be in time for dinner. But before we go in to dinner, +my dad will ring the bell in the compound, and the help will report. +Amid loud cries of wonder and delight, I shall be welcomed by a mess of +mixed breeds of assorted sexes, and old Pablo, the majordomo, will be +ordered to pass out some wine to celebrate my arrival. It's against the +law to give wine to an Indian, but then, as my father always remarks on +such occasions: 'To hell with the law! They're my Indians, and there are +damned few of them left.' +</P> + +<P> +"Padre Dominic, my father, and I will, in all probability, get just a +little bit jingled at dinner. After dinner, we'll sit on the porch +flanking the patio and smoke cigars, and I'll smell the lemon verbena and +heliotrope and other old-fashioned flowers modern gardeners have +forgotten how to grow. About midnight, Father Dominic's brain will have +cleared, and he will be fit to be trusted with his accursed automobile; +so he will snort home in the moonlight, and my father will then carefully +lock the patio gate with a nine-inch key. Not that anybody ever steals +anything in our country, except a cow once in a while—and cows never +range in our patio—but just because we're hell-benders for conforming to +custom. When I was a boy, Pablo Artelan, our majordomo, always slept +athwart that gate, like an old watchdog. I give you my word I've climbed +that patio wall a hundred times and dropped down on Pablo's stomach +without wakening him. And, for a quarter of a century, to my personal +knowledge, that patio gate has supported itself on a hinge and a half. +Oh, we're a wonderful institution, we Farrels!" +</P> + +<P> +"What did you say this Pablo was?" +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"And your father feeds them?" +</P> + +<P> +"Certainly. Also, he houses them. It can't be helped. It's an old +custom." +</P> + +<P> +"How long has Pablo been a pensioner?" +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +The captain burst out laughing. +</P> + +<P> +"But surely this Pablo has some use," he suggested. +</P> + +<P> +"Well he feeds the dogs, and in order to season his <I>frijoles</I> 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." +</P> + +<P> +"How old is your father, Farrel?" +</P> + +<P> +"Seventy-eight." +</P> + +<P> +"And he rides a horse!" +</P> + +<P> +"He does worse than that." Farrel laughed. "He rides a horse that would +police you, sir. On his seventieth birthday, at a rodeo, he won first +prize for roping and hog-tying a steer." +</P> + +<P> +"I'd like to meet that father of yours, Farrel." +</P> + +<P> +"You'd like him. Any time you want to spend a furlough on the Palomar, +we'll make you mighty welcome. Better come in the fall for the +quail-shooting." He glanced at his wrist-watch and sighed. "Well, I +suppose I'd do well to be toddling along. Is the captain going to remain +in the service?" +</P> + +<P> +The captain nodded. +</P> + +<P> +"My people are hell-benders on conforming to custom, also," he added. +"We've all been field-artillerymen. +</P> + +<P> +"I believe I thanked you for a favor you did me once, but to prove I +meant what I said, I'm going to send you a horse, sir. He is a chestnut +with silver points, five years old, sixteen hands high, sound as a +Liberty Bond, and bred in the purple. He is beautifully reined, game, +full of ginger, but gentle and sensible. He'll weigh ten hundred in +condition, and he's as active as a cat. You can win with him at any +horse-show and at the head of a battery. <I>Dios</I>! He is every inch a +<I>caballero</I>!" +</P> + +<P> +"Sergeant, you're much too kind. Really——-" +</P> + +<P> +"The things we have been through together, sir—all that we have been to +each other—never can happen again. You will add greatly to my happiness +if you will accept this animal as a souvenir of our very pleasant +association." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, son, this is too much! You're giving me your own private mount. +You love him. He loves you. Doubtless he'll know you the minute you +enter the pasture." +</P> + +<P> +Farrel's fine white teeth, flashed in a brilliant smile, "I do not desire +to have the captain mounted on an inferior horse. We have many other +good horses on the Palomar. This one's name is Panchito; I will express +him to you some day this week." +</P> + +<P> +"Farrel, you quite overwhelm me. A thousand thanks! I'll treasure +Panchito for your sake as well as his own." +</P> + +<P> +The soldier extended his hand, and the captain grasped it. +</P> + +<P> +"Good-by, Sergeant. Pleasant green fields!" +</P> + +<P> +"Good-by, sir. Dry camps and quick promotion." +</P> + +<P> +The descendant of a <I>conquistador</I> picked up his straw suitcase, his +helmet, and gas-mask. At the door, he stood to attention, and saluted. +The captain leaped to his feet and returned this salutation of warriors; +the door opened and closed, and the officer stood staring at the space so +lately occupied by the man who, for eighteen months, had been his right +hand. +</P> + +<P> +"Strange man!" he muttered. "I didn't know they bred his kind any more. +Why, he's a feudal baron!" +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap03"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +III +</H3> + + +<P> +There were three people in the observation-car when Michael Joseph +Farrel boarded it a few minutes before eight o'clock the following +morning. Of the three, one was a girl, and, as Farrel entered, +carrying the souvenirs of his service—a helmet and gas-mask—she +glanced at him with the interest which the average civilian manifests +in any soldier obviously just released from service and homeward bound. +Farrel's glance met hers for an instant with equal interest; then he +turned to stow his impedimenta in the brass rack over his seat. He was +granted an equally swift but more direct appraisal of her as he walked +down the observation-car to the rear platform, where he selected a +chair in a corner that offered him sanctuary from the cold, fog-laden +breeze, lighted a cigar, and surrendered himself to contemplating, in +his mind's eye, the joys of home-coming. +</P> + +<P> +He had the platform to himself until after the train had passed Palo +Alto, when others joined him. The first to emerge on the platform was +a Japanese. Farrel favored him with a cool, contemptuous scrutiny, for +he was a Californian and did not hold the members of this race in a +tithe of the esteem he accorded other Orientals. This Japanese was +rather shorter and thinner than the majority of his race. He wore +large, round tortoise-shell spectacles, and clothes that proclaimed the +attention of the very best tailors; a gold-band ring, set with one +blue-white diamond and two exquisite sapphires, adorned the pudgy +finger of his right hand. Farrel judged that his gray beaver hat must +have cost at least fifty dollars. +</P> + +<P> +"We ought to have Jim Crow cars for these cock-sure sons of Nippon," +the ex-soldier growled to himself. "We'll come to it yet if something +isn't done about them. They breed so fast they'll have us crowded into +back seats in another decade." +</P> + +<P> +He had had some unpleasant clashes with Japanese troops in Siberia, and +the memory of their studied insolence was all the more poignant because +it had gone unchallenged. He observed, now, that the Japanese +passenger had permitted the screen door to slam in the face of the man +following him; with a very definite appreciation of the good things of +life, he had instantly selected the chair in the corner opposite +Farrel, where he could smoke his cigar free from the wind. Following +the Japanese came an American, as distinctive of his class as the +Japanese was of his. In point of age, this man was about fifty years +old—a large man strikingly handsome and of impressive personality. He +courteously held the door open to permit the passage of the girl whom +Farrel had noticed when he first entered the car. +</P> + +<P> +To Farrel, at least, a surprising incident now occurred. There were +eight vacant seats on the platform, and the girl's glance swept them +all; he fancied it rested longest upon the chair beside him. Then, +with the faintest possible little <I>moue</I> of disapproval, she seated +herself beside the Japanese. The other man took the seat in front of +the girl, half turned, and entered into conversation with the Jap. +</P> + +<P> +Farrel studied the trio with interest, decided that they were traveling +together, and that the man in the gray tweeds was the father of the +girl. She bore a striking resemblance to him and had inherited his +handsome features a thousandfold, albeit her eyes were different, being +large, brown, and wide apart; from them beamed a sweetness, a +benignancy, and tenderness that, to the impressionable Farrel, bespoke +mental as well as physical beauty. She was gowned, gloved, and hatted +with rich simplicity. +</P> + +<P> +"I think that white man is from the East," Farrel concluded, although +why that impression came to him, he would have been at a loss to +explain. Perhaps it was because he appeared to associate on terms of +social equality with a Japanese whose boorishness, coupled with an +evident desire to agree with everything the white man said, proclaimed +him anything but a consular representative or a visiting merchant. +</P> + +<P> +Presently the girl's brown eyes were turned casually in Farrel's +direction, seemingly without interest. Instantly he rose, fixed her +with a comprehending look, nodded almost imperceptibly toward the chair +he was vacating, and returned to his seat inside the car. Her fine +brows lifted a trifle; her slight inclination of the head was robbed of +the chill of brevity by a fleeting smile of gratitude, not so much for +the sacrifice of his seat in her favor as for the fine courtesy which +had moved him to proffer it without making of his action an excuse to +sit beside her and attempt an acquaintance. +</P> + +<P> +From his exile, Farrel observed with satisfaction how quickly the girl +excused herself to her companions and crossed over to the seat vacated +in her favor. +</P> + +<P> +At the first call for luncheon, he entered the diner and was given a +seat at a small table. The seat opposite him was unoccupied, and when +the girl entered the diner alone and was shown to this vacant seat, +Farrel thrilled pleasurably. +</P> + +<P> +"Three long, loud ones for you, young lady!" he soliloquized. "You +didn't care to eat at the same table with the brown beggar; so you came +to luncheon alone." +</P> + +<P> +As their glances met, there was in Farrel's black eyes no hint of +recognition, for he possessed in full measure all of the modesty and +timidity of the most modest and timid race on earth where women are +concerned—the Irish—tempered with the exquisite courtesy of that race +for whom courtesy and gallantry toward woman are a tradition—the +Spanish of that all but extinct Californian caste known as the <I>gente</I>. +</P> + +<P> +It pleased Farrel to pretend careful study of the menu. Although his +preferences in food were simple, he was extraordinarily hungry and knew +exactly what he wanted. For long months he had dreamed of a +porterhouse steak smothered in mushrooms, and now, finding that +appetizing viand listed on the menu, he ordered it without giving +mature deliberation to the possible consequences of his act. For the +past two months he had been forced to avoid, when dining alone, meats +served in such a manner as to necessitate firm and skilful manipulation +of a knife—and when the waiter served his steak, he discovered, to his +embarrassment, that it was not particularly tender nor was his knife +even reasonably sharp. Consequently, following an unsatisfactory +assault, he laid the knife aside and cast an anxious glance toward the +kitchen, into which his waiter had disappeared; while awaiting the aid +of this functionary, he hid his right hand under the table and gently +massaged the back of it at a point where a vivid red scar showed. +</P> + +<P> +He was aware that the girl was watching him, and, with the fascination +peculiar to such a situation, he could not forbear a quick glance at +her. Interest and concern showed in the brown eyes, and she smiled +frankly, as she said: +</P> + +<P> +"I very much fear, Mr. Ex-First Sergeant, that your steak constitutes +an order you are unable to execute. Perhaps you will not mind if I +carve it for you." +</P> + +<P> +"Please do not bother about me!" he exclaimed. "The waiter will be +here presently. You are very kind, but———" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, I'm quite an expert in the gentle art of mothering military men. +I commanded a hot-cake-and-doughnut brigade in France." She reached +across the little table and possessed herself of his plate. +</P> + +<P> +"I'll bet my last copeck you had good discipline, too," he declared +admiringly. He could imagine the number of daring devils from whose +amorous advances even a hot-cake queen was not immune. +</P> + +<P> +"The recipe was absurdly simple: No discipline, no hot-cakes. And +there were always a sufficient number of good fellows around to squelch +anybody who tried to interfere with my efficiency. By the way, I +observed how hungrily you were looking out the window this morning. +Quite a change from Siberia, isn't it?" +</P> + +<P> +"How did you know I'd soldiered in Siberia?" +</P> + +<P> +"You said you'd bet your last copeck." +</P> + +<P> +"You should have served in Intelligence." +</P> + +<P> +"You are blessed with a fair amount of intuition yourself." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, I knew you didn't want to sit near that Jap. Can't bear the race +myself." +</P> + +<P> +She nodded approvingly. +</P> + +<P> +"Waiter's still out in the kitchen," she reminded him. "Now, old +soldier, aren't you glad I took pity on you? Your steak would have +been cold before he got round to you, and I imagine you've had +sufficient cold rations to do you quite a while." +</P> + +<P> +"It was sweet of you to come to my rescue. I'm not exactly crippled, +though I haven't used my hand for more than two months, and the muscles +are slightly atrophied. The knife slips because I cannot close my hand +tightly. But I'll be all right in another month." +</P> + +<P> +"What happened to it?" +</P> + +<P> +"Saber-thrust. Wouldn't have amounted to much if the Bolshevik who did +the thrusting had had a clean saber. Blood-poisoning set in, but our +battalion surgeon got to work on it in time to save me from being +permanently crippled." +</P> + +<P> +"'Saber-thrust?' They got that close to you?" +</P> + +<P> +He nodded. +</P> + +<P> +"Troop of Semenoff's bandits in a little two-by-four fight out on the +trans-Siberian railroad. Guess they wanted the trainload of rations we +were guarding. My captain killed the fellow who stuck me and accounted +for four others who tried to finish me." +</P> + +<P> +"Captains think a great deal of good first sergeants," she suggested. +"And you got a wound-chevron out of it. I suppose, like every soldier, +you wanted one, provided it didn't cost too much." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, yes. And I got mine rather cheap. The battalion surgeon fixed it +so I didn't have to go to the hospital. Never missed a day of duty." +</P> + +<P> +She handed him his plate with the steak cut into bits. +</P> + +<P> +"It was nice of you to surrender your cozy seat to me this morning, +Sergeant." She buttered a piece of bread for him and added, "But very +much nicer the way you did it." +</P> + +<P> +"'Cast thy bread upon the waters,'" he quoted, and grinned brazenly. +"Nevertheless, if I were in civvies, you'd have permitted the waiter to +cut my steak." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, of course we veterans must stand together, Sergeant." +</P> + +<P> +"I find it pleasanter sitting together. By the way, may I ask the +identity of the Nipponese person, with your father?" +</P> + +<P> +"How do you know he is my father?" she parried. +</P> + +<P> +"I do not know. I merely thought he looked quite worthy of the honor." +</P> + +<P> +"While away with the rough, bad soldiers, you did not forget how to +make graceful speeches," she complimented him. "The object of your +pardonable curiosity is a Mr. Okada, the potato baron of California. +He was formerly prime minister to the potato king of the San Joaquin, +but revolted and became a pretender to the throne. While the king +lives, however, Okada is merely a baron, although in a few years he +will probably control the potato market absolutely." +</P> + +<P> +He thumped the table lightly with his maimed hand. +</P> + +<P> +"I knew he was just a coolie dressed up." +</P> + +<P> +She reached for an olive. +</P> + +<P> +"Go as far as you like, native son. He's no friend of mine." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, in that case, I'll spare his life," he countered boldly. "And +I've always wanted to kill a Japanese potato baron. Do you not think +it would be patriotic of me to immolate myself and reduce the cost of +spuds?" +</P> + +<P> +"I never eat them. They're very fattening. Now, if you really wish to +be a humanitarian, why not search out the Japanese garlic king?" +</P> + +<P> +"I dare not. His demise would place me in bad odor." +</P> + +<P> +She laughed merrily. Evidently she was finding him amusing company. +She looked him over appraisingly and queried bluntly, +</P> + +<P> +"Were you educated abroad?" +</P> + +<P> +"I was not. I'm a product of a one-room schoolhouse perched on a bare +hill down in San Marcos County." +</P> + +<P> +"But you speak like a college man." +</P> + +<P> +"I am. I'm a graduate of the University of California Agricultural +College, at Davis. I'm a sharp on pure-bred beef cattle, pure-bred +swine, and irrigation. I know why hens decline to lay when eggs are +worth eighty cents a dozen, and why young turkeys are so blamed hard to +raise in the fall. My grandfather and my father were educated at +Trinity College, Dublin, and were sharps on Latin and Greek, but I +never figured the dead languages as much of an aid to a man doomed from +birth to view cows from the hurricane-deck of a horse." +</P> + +<P> +"But you have such a funny little clipped accent." +</P> + +<P> +He opened his great black eyes in feigned astonishment. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, didn't you know?" he whispered. +</P> + +<P> +"Know what?" +</P> + +<P> +"Unfortunate young woman!" he murmured to his water-glass. "No wonder +she sits in public with that pudgy son of a chrysanthemum, when she +isn't even able to recognize a greaser at a glance. Oh, Lord!" +</P> + +<P> +"You're not a greaser," she challenged. +</P> + +<P> +"No?" he bantered. "You ought to see me squatting under an avocado +tree, singing the 'Spanish Cavalier' to a guitar accompaniment. +Listen: I'll prove it without the accompaniment." And he hummed +softly: +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> + "The Spanish cavalier,<BR> + Went out to rope a steer,<BR> + Along with his paper cigar-o,<BR> + '<I>Car-ramba</I>!' says he.<BR> + '<I>Mañana</I> you will be<BR> + <I>Mucho bueno carne par mio</I>!'" +</P> + +<P> +Her brown eyes danced. +</P> + +<P> +"That doesn't prove anything except that you're an incorrigible Celt. +When you stooped down to kiss the stone at Blarney Castle, you lost +your balance and fell in the well. And you've dripped blarney ever +since." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, not that bad, really! I'm a very serious person ordinarily. That +little forget-me-not of language is a heritage of my childhood. Mother +taught me to pray in Spanish, and I learned that language first. +Later, my grandfather taught me to swear in English with an Irish +accent, and I've been fearfully balled up ever since. It's very +inconvenient." +</P> + +<P> +"Be serious, soldier, or I shall not cut your meat for you at dinner." +</P> + +<P> +"Excuse me. I forgot I was addressing a hot-cake queen. But please do +not threaten me, because I'm out of the army just twenty-four hours, +and I'm independent and I may resent it. I can order spoon-victuals, +you know." +</P> + +<P> +"You aren't really Spanish?" +</P> + +<P> +"Not really. Mostly. I'd fight a wild bull this minute for a single +red-chilli pepper. I eat them raw." +</P> + +<P> +"And you're going home to your ranch now?" +</P> + +<P> +"<I>Si</I>. And I'll not take advantage of any stop-over privileges on the +way, either. Remember the fellow in the song who kept on proclaiming +that he had to go back—that he must go back—that he would go back—to +that dear old Chicago town? Well, that poor exile had only just +commenced to think that he ought to begin feeling the urge to go home. +And when you consider that the unfortunate man hailed from Chicago, +while I——" He blew a kiss out the window and hummed: +</P> + +<P> + "I love you, California. + You're the greatest state of all———" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh dear! You native sons are all alike. Congenital advertisers, +every one." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, isn't it beautiful? Isn't it wonderful?" He was serious now. +</P> + +<P> +"One-half of your state is worthless mountain country———" +</P> + +<P> +"He-country—and beautiful!" he interrupted. +</P> + +<P> +"The other half is desert." +</P> + +<P> +"Ever see the Mojave in the late afternoon from the top of the Tejon +Pass?" he challenged. "The wild, barbaric beauty of it? And with +water it would be a garden-spot." +</P> + +<P> +"Of course your valleys are wonderful." +</P> + +<P> +"<I>Gracias, señorita</I>." +</P> + +<P> +"But the bare brown hills in summer-time—and the ghost-rivers of the +South! I do not think they are beautiful." +</P> + +<P> +"They grow on one," he assured her earnestly. "You wait and see. I +wish you could ride over the hills back of Sespe with me this +afternoon, and see the San Gregorio valley in her new spring gown. Ah, +how my heart yearns for the San Gregorio!" +</P> + +<P> +To her amazement, she detected a mistiness in his eyes, and her +generous heart warmed to him. +</P> + +<P> +"How profoundly happy you are!" she commented. +</P> + +<P> +"'Happy'? I should tell a man! I'm as happy as a cock valley-quail +with a large family and no coyotes in sight. Wow! This steak is good." +</P> + +<P> +"Not very, I think. It's tough." +</P> + +<P> +"I have good teeth." +</P> + +<P> +She permitted him to eat in silence for several minutes, and when he +had disposed of the steak, she asked, +</P> + +<P> +"You live in the San Gregorio valley?" +</P> + +<P> +He nodded. +</P> + +<P> +"We have a ranch there also," she volunteered. "Father acquired it +recently." +</P> + +<P> +"From whom did he acquire it?" +</P> + +<P> +"I do not know the man's name, but the ranch is one of those old +Mexican grants. It has a Spanish name. I'll try to remember it." She +knitted her delicate brows. "It's Pal-something or other." +</P> + +<P> +"Is it the Palomares grant?" he suggested. +</P> + +<P> +"I think it is. I know the former owner is dead, and my father +acquired the ranch by foreclosure of mortgage on the estate." +</P> + +<P> +"Then it's the Palomares grant. My father wrote in his last letter +that old man Gonzales had died and that a suit to foreclose the +mortgage had been entered against the estate. The eastern edge of that +grant laps over the lower end of the San Gregorio. Is your father a +banker?" +</P> + +<P> +"He controls the First National Bank of El Toro." +</P> + +<P> +"That settles the identity of the ranch. Gonzales was mortgaged to the +First National." He smiled a trifle foolishly. "You gave me a bad ten +seconds," he explained. "I thought you meant my father's ranch at +first." +</P> + +<P> +"Horrible!" She favored him with a delightful little grimace of +sympathy. "Just think of coming home and finding yourself homeless!" +</P> + +<P> +"I think such a condition would make me wish that Russian had been +given time to finish what he started. By the way, I knew all of the +stockholders in the First National Bank, of El Toro. Your father is a +newcomer. He must have bought out old Dan Hayes' interest." She +nodded affirmatively. "Am I at liberty to be inquisitive—just a +little bit?" he queried. +</P> + +<P> +"That depends, Sergeant. Ask your question, and if I feel at liberty +to answer it, I shall." +</P> + +<P> +"Is that Japanese, Okada, a member of your party?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes; he is traveling with us. He has a land-deal on with my father." +</P> + +<P> +"Ah!" +</P> + +<P> +She glanced across at him with new interest. +</P> + +<P> +"There was resentment in that last observation of yours," she +challenged. +</P> + +<P> +"In common with all other Californians with manhood enough to resent +imposition, I resent all Japanese." +</P> + +<P> +"Is it true, then, that there is a real Japanese problem out here?" +</P> + +<P> +"Why, I thought everybody knew that," he replied, a trifle +reproachfully. "As the outpost of Occidental civilization, we've been +battling Oriental aggression for forty years." +</P> + +<P> +"I had thought this agitation largely the mouthings of professional +agitators—a part of the labor-leaders' plan to pose as the watch-dogs +of the rights of the California laboring man." +</P> + +<P> +"That is sheer buncombe carefully fostered by a very efficient corps of +Japanese propagandists. The resentment against the Japanese invasion +of California is not confined to any class, but is a very vital issue +with every white citizen of the state who has reached the age of reason +and regardless of whether he was born in California or Timbuctoo. +Look!" +</P> + +<P> +He pointed to a huge sign-board fronting a bend in the highway that ran +close to the railroad track and parallel with it: +</P> + +<CENTER> +<P CLASS="noindent"> +<B> +NO MORE JAPS WANTED HERE +</B> +</P> +</CENTER> + +<P> +"This is entirely an agricultural section," he explained. "There are +no labor-unions here. But," he added bitterly, "you could throw a +stone in the air and be moderately safe on the small end of a bet that +the stone would land on a Jap farmer." +</P> + +<P> +"Do the white farmers think that sign will frighten them away?" +</P> + +<P> +"No; of course not. That sign is merely a polite intimation to white +men who may contemplate selling or leasing their lands to Japs that the +organized sentiment of this community is against such a course. The +lower standards of living of the Oriental enable him to pay much higher +prices for land than a white man can." +</P> + +<P> +"But," she persisted, "these aliens have a legal right to own and lease +land in this state, have they not?" +</P> + +<P> +"Unfortunately, through the treachery of white lawyers, they have +devised means to comply with the letter of a law denying them the right +to own land, while evading the spirit of that law. Corporations with +white dummy directors—purchases by alien Japs in the names of their +infants in arms who happen to have been born in this country———" he +shrugged. +</P> + +<P> +"Then you should amend your laws." +</P> + +<P> +He looked at her with the faintest hint of cool belligerence in his +fine dark eyes. +</P> + +<P> +"Every time we Californians try to enact a law calculated to keep our +state a white man's country, you Easterners, who know nothing of our +problem, and are too infernally lazy to read up on it, permit +yourselves to be stampeded by that hoary shibboleth of strained +diplomatic relations with the Mikado's government. Pressure is brought +to bear on us from the seat of the national government; the President +sends us a message to proceed cautiously, and our loyalty to the +sisterhood of states is used as a club to beat our brains out. Once, +when we were all primed to settle this issue decisively, the immortal +Theodore Roosevelt—our two-fisted, non-bluffable President at that +time—made us call off our dogs. Later, when again we began to squirm +under our burden, the Secretary of State, pacific William J. Bryan, +hurried out to our state capital, held up both pious hands, and cried: +'Oh, no! Really, you mustn't! We insist that you consider the other +members of the family. Withhold this radical legislation until we can +settle this row amicably.' Well, we were dutiful sons. We tried out +the gentleman's agreement imposed on us in 1907, but when, in 1913, we +knew it for a failure, we passed our Alien Land Bill, which hampered +but did not prevent, although we knew from experience that the class of +Japs who have a strangle-hold on California are not gentlemen but +coolies, and never respect an agreement they can break if, in the +breaking, they are financially benefited." +</P> + +<P> +"Well," the girl queried, a little subdued by his vehemence, "how has +that law worked out?" +</P> + +<P> +"Fine—for the Japs. The Japanese population of California has doubled +in five years; the area of fertile lands under their domination has +increased a thousand-fold, until eighty-five per cent. of the +vegetables raised in this state are controlled by Japs. They are not a +dull people, and they know how to make that control yield rich +dividends—at the expense of the white race. That man Okada is called +the 'potato baron' because presently he will actually control the +potato crop of central California—and that is where most of the +potatoes of this state are raised. Which reminds me that I started to +ask you a question about him. Do you happen to know if he is +contemplating expanding his enterprise to include a section of southern +California?" +</P> + +<P> +"I suppose I ought not discuss my father's business affairs with a +stranger," she replied, "but since he is making no secret of them, I +dare say I do not violate his confidence when I tell you that he has a +deal on with Mr. Okada to colonize the San Gregorio valley in San +Marcos County." +</P> + +<P> +The look of a thousand devils leaped into Farrel's eyes. The storm of +passion that swept him was truly Latin in its terrible intensity. He +glared at the girl with a malevolence that terrified her. +</P> + +<P> +"My valley'" he managed to murmur presently. "My beautiful San +Gregorio! Japs! Japs!" +</P> + +<P> +"I hadn't the faintest idea that information would upset you so," the +girl protested. "Please forgive me." +</P> + +<P> +"I—I come from the San Gregorio," he cried passionately. "I love +every rock and cactus and rattlesnake in it. <I>Válgame Dios</I>!" And the +maimed right hand twisted and clutched as, subconsciously, he strove to +clench his fist. "Ah, who was the coward—who was the traitor that +betrayed us for a handful of silver?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes; I believe there is a great deal of the Latin about you," she said +demurely. "If I had a temper as volcanic as yours, I would never, +never go armed." +</P> + +<P> +"I could kill with my naked hands the white man who betrays his +community to a Jap. <I>Madre de Dios</I>, how I hate them!" +</P> + +<P> +"Well, wait until your trusty right hand is healed before you try +garroting anybody," she suggested dryly. "Suppose you cool off, Mr. +Pepper-pot, and tell me more about this terrible menace?" +</P> + +<P> +"You are interested—really?" +</P> + +<P> +"I could be made to listen without interrupting you, if you could bring +yourself to cease glaring at me with those terrible chile-con-carne +eyes. I can almost see myself at my own funeral. Please remember that +I have nothing whatsoever to do with my father's business affairs." +</P> + +<P> +"Your father looks like a human being, and if he realized the economic +crime he is fostering———" +</P> + +<P> +"Easy, soldier! You're discussing my father, whereas I desire to +discuss the Yellow Peril. To begin, are you prejudiced against a +citizen of Japan just because he's a Jap?" +</P> + +<P> +"I will be frank. I do not like the race. To a white man, there is +nothing lovable about a Jap, nothing that would lead, except in +isolated cases, to a warm friendship between members of our race and +theirs. And I dare say the individual Jap has as instinctive a dislike +for us as we have for him." +</P> + +<P> +"Well then, how about John Chinaman?" +</P> + +<P> +His face brightened. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, a Chinaman is different. He's a regular fellow. You can have a +great deal of respect and downright admiration for a Chinaman, even of +the coolie class." +</P> + +<P> +"Nevertheless, the Chinese are excluded from California." +</P> + +<P> +He nodded. +</P> + +<P> +"But not because of strong racial prejudice. The Chinese, like any +other Oriental, are not assimilable; also, like the Jap and the Hindu, +they are smart enough to know a good thing when they see it—and +California looks good to everybody. John Chinaman would overrun us if +we permitted it, but since he is a mighty decent sort and realizes the +sanity of our contention that he is not assimilable with us, or we with +him, he admits the wisdom and justice of our slogan: 'California for +white men.' There was no protest from Peking when we passed the +Exclusion Act. Now, however, when we endeavor to exclude Japanese, +Tokio throws a fit. But if we can muster enough courage among our +state legislators to pass a law that will absolutely divorce the +Japanese coolie from California land, we can cope with him in other +lines of trade." +</P> + +<P> +She had listened earnestly to his argument, delivered with all the +earnestness of which he was capable. +</P> + +<P> +"Why is he not assimilable?" she asked. +</P> + +<P> +"Would you marry the potato baron?" he demanded bluntly. +</P> + +<P> +"Certainly not!" she answered. +</P> + +<P> +"He has gobs of money. Is that not a point worthy of consideration?" +</P> + +<P> +"Not with me. It never could be." +</P> + +<P> +"Perhaps you have gobs of money also." +</P> + +<P> +"If I were a scrubwoman, and starving, I wouldn't consider a proposal +of marriage from that Jap sufficiently long to reject it." +</P> + +<P> +"Then you have answered your own question," he reminded her +triumphantly. "The purity of our race—aye, the purity of the Japanese +race—forbids intermarriage; hence we are confronted with the +intolerable prospect of sharing our wonderful state with an alien race +that must forever remain, alien—in thought, language, morals, +religion, patriotism, and standards of living. They will dominate us, +because they are a dominant people; they will shoulder us aside, +control us, dictate to us, and we shall disappear from this beautiful +land as surely and as swiftly as did the Mission Indian. While the +South has its negro problem—and a sorry problem it is—we Californians +have had an infinitely more dangerous problem thrust upon us. We've +got to shake them off. We've got to!" +</P> + +<P> +"I'll speak to my father. I do not think he understands—that he fully +realizes———" +</P> + +<P> +"Ah! Thank you so much. Your father is rich, is he not?" +</P> + +<P> +"I think he possesses more money than he will ever need," she replied +soberly. +</P> + +<P> +"Please try to make him see that the big American thing to do would be +to colonize his land in the San Gregorio for white men and take a +lesser profit. Really, I do not relish the idea of Japanese neighbors." +</P> + +<P> +"You live there, then?" +</P> + +<P> +He nodded. +</P> + +<P> +"Hope to die there, too. You leave the train at El Toro, I suppose?" +</P> + +<P> +"My father has telegraphed mother to have the car meet us there. We +shall motor out to the ranch. And are you alighting at El Toro also?" +</P> + +<P> +"No. I plan to pile off at Sespe, away up the line, and take a short +cut via a cattle-trail over the hills. I'll hike it." +</P> + +<P> +She hesitated slightly. Then: +</P> + +<P> +"I'm sure father would be very happy to give you a lift out from El +Toro, Sergeant. We shall have oodles of room." +</P> + +<P> +"Thank you. You are very kind. But the fact is," he went on to +explain, "nobody knows I'm coming home, and I have a childish desire to +sneak in the back way and surprise them. Were I to appear in El Toro, +I'd have to shake hands with everybody in town and relate a history of +my exploits and———" +</P> + +<P> +"I understand perfectly. You just want to get home, don't you?" And +she bent upon him a smile of complete understanding—a smile +all-compelling, maternal. "But did you say you'd hike it in from +Sespe? Why not hire a horse?" +</P> + +<P> +"I'd like to have a horse, and if I cared to ask far one, I could +borrow one. But I'll hike it instead. It will be easy in light +marching-order." +</P> + +<P> +"Speaking of horses," she said abruptly. "Do you know a horse in the +San Gregorio named Panchito?" +</P> + +<P> +"A very dark chestnut with silver mane and tail, five-gaited, and as +stylish as a lady?" +</P> + +<P> +"The very same." +</P> + +<P> +"I should say I do know that horse! What about him?" +</P> + +<P> +"My father is going to buy him for me." +</P> + +<P> +This was news, and Farrel's manner indicated as much. +</P> + +<P> +"Where did you see Panchito?" he demanded. +</P> + +<P> +"An Indian named Pablo rode him into El Toro to be shod one day while +we were living at the hotel there. He's perfectly adorable." +</P> + +<P> +"Pablo? Hardly. I know the old rascal." +</P> + +<P> +"Be serious. Panchito—I was passing the blacksmith's shop, and I +simply had to step in and admire him." +</P> + +<P> +"That tickled old Pablo to death—of course." +</P> + +<P> +"It did. He put Panchito through all of his tricks for me, and, after +the horse was shod, he permitted me to ride the dear for half an hour. +Pablo was so kind! He waited until I could run back to the hotel and +change into my riding-habit." +</P> + +<P> +"Did you try to give Pablo some money—say, about five dollars?" he +demanded, smilingly. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes." Her eyes betrayed wonder. +</P> + +<P> +"He declined it with profuse thanks, didn't he?" +</P> + +<P> +"You're the queerest man I've ever met. Pablo did refuse it. How did +you know?" +</P> + +<P> +"I know Pablo. He wouldn't take money from a lady. It's against the +code of the Rancho Palomar, and if his boss ever heard that he had +fractured that code, he'd skin him alive." +</P> + +<P> +"Not Pablo's boss. Pablo told me his Don Mike, as he calls him, was +killed by the bewhiskered devils in a cold country the name of which he +had heard but could not remember. He meant Siberia." +</P> + +<P> +Farrel sat up suddenly. +</P> + +<P> +"What's that?" he cried sharply. "He told you Don Mike had been +killed?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes—poor fellow! Pablo said Don Mike's father had had a telegram +from the War Department." +</P> + +<P> +Farrel's first impulse was to curse the War Department—in Spanish, so +she would not understand. His second was to laugh, and his third to +burst into tears. How his father had suffered! Then he remembered +that to-night, he, the said Don Mike, was to have the proud privilege +of returning from Valhalla, of bringing the light of joy back to the +faded eyes of old Don Miguel, and in the swift contemplation of the +drama and the comedy impending, he stood staring at her rather +stupidly. Pablo would doubtless believe he was a ghost returned to +haunt old scenes; the majordomo would make the sign of the cross and +start running, never pausing till he would reach the Mission of the +Mother of Sorrows, there to pour forth his unbelievable tale to Father +Dominic. Whereupon Father Dominic would spring into his prehistoric +automobile and come up to investigate. Great jumped-up Jehoshaphat! +What a climax to two years of soldiering! +</P> + +<P> +"Wha—what—why—do you mean to tell me poor old Mike Farrel has lost +the number of his mess?" he blurted. "Great snakes! That news breaks +me all up in business." +</P> + +<P> +"You knew him well, then?" +</P> + +<P> +"'Knew him?' Why, I ate with him, slept with turn, rode with him, went +to school with him. Know him? I should tell a man! We even soldiered +together in Siberia; but, strange to say, I hadn't heard of his death." +</P> + +<P> +"Judging by all the nice things I heard about him in El Toro, his death +was a genuine loss to his section of the country. Everybody appears to +have known him and loved him." +</P> + +<P> +"One has to die before his virtues are apparent to some people," Farrel +murmured philosophically. "And now that Don Mike Farrel is dead, you +hope to acquire Panchito, eh?" +</P> + +<P> +"I'll be broken-hearted if I cannot." +</P> + +<P> +"He'll cost you a lot of money." +</P> + +<P> +"He's worth a lot of money." +</P> + +<P> +He gazed at her very solemnly. +</P> + +<P> +"I am aware that what I am about to say is but poor return for your +sweet courtesy, but I feel that you might as well begin now to abandon +all hope of ever owning Panchito." +</P> + +<P> +"Why?" +</P> + +<P> +"I—I hate to tell you this, but the fact is—I'm going to acquire him." +</P> + +<P> +She shook, her head and smiled at him—the superior smile of one quite +conscious of her strength. +</P> + +<P> +"He is to be sold at public auction," she informed him. "And the man +who outbids me for that horse will have to mortgage his ranch and +borrow money on his Liberty Bonds." +</P> + +<P> +"We shall see that which we shall see," he returned, enigmatically. +"Waiter, bring me my check, please." +</P> + +<P> +While the waiter was counting out the change from a twenty-dollar bill, +Farrel resumed his conversation with the girl. +</P> + +<P> +"Do you plan to remain in the San Gregorio very long?" +</P> + +<P> +"All summer, I think." +</P> + +<P> +He rose from his chair and bowed to her with an Old-World courtliness. +</P> + +<P> +"Once more I thank you for your kindness to me, <I>señorita</I>," he said. +"It is a debt that I shall always remember—and rejoice because I can +never repay it. I dare say we shall meet again in the very near +future, and when we do, I am going to arrange matters so that I may +have the honor of being properly introduced." He pocketed his change. +"Until some day in the San Gregorio, then," he finished, "<I>adios</I>!" +</P> + +<P> +Despite his smile, her woman's intuition told her that something more +poignant than the threatened Japanese invasion of the San Gregorio +valley had cast a shadow over his sunny soul. She concluded it must +have been the news of the death of his childhood chum, the beloved Don +Mike. +</P> + +<P> +"What a wonderful fellow Don Mike must have been!" she mused. "White +men sing his praises, and Indians and mixed breeds cry them. No wonder +this ex-soldier plans to outbid me for Panchito. He attaches a +sentimental value to the horse because of his love for poor Don Mike. +I wonder if I ought to bid against him under the circumstances. Poor +dear! He wants his buddy's horse so badly. He's really very nice—so +old-fashioned and sincere. And he's dreadfully good-looking." +</P> + +<P> +"Nature was overgenerous with that young lady," Farrel decided, as he +made his way up to the smoking-car. "As a usual thing, she seldom +dispenses brains with beauty—and this girl has both. I wonder who she +can be? Well, she's too late for Panchito. She may have any other +horse on the ranch, but———" +</P> + +<P> +He glanced down at the angry red scar on the back of his right hand and +remembered. What a charger was Panchito for a battery commander! +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap04"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +IV +</H3> + + +<P> +Farrel remained in the smoking-car throughout the rest of his journey, +for he feared the possibility of a renewal of acquaintance with his +quondam companion of the dining-car should he return to the +observation-platform. He did not wish to meet her as a discharged +soldier, homeward bound—the sort of stray dog every man, woman, and +child feels free to enter into conversation with and question regarding +his battles, wounds, and post-office address. When he met that girl +again, he wanted to meet her as Don Miguel José Farrel, of Palomar. He +was not so unintelligent as to fail to realize that in his own country +he was a personage, and he had sufficient self-esteem to desire her to +realize it also. He had a feeling that, should they meet frequently in +the future, they would become very good friends. Also, he looked +forward with quiet amusement to the explanations that would ensue when +the supposedly dead should return to life. +</P> + +<P> +During their brief conversation, she had given him much food for +thought—so much, in fact, that presently he forgot about her entirely. +His mind was occupied with the problem that confronts practically all +discharged soldiers—that of readjustment, not to the life of pre-war +days, but to one newer, better, more ambitious, and efficient. Farrel +realized that a continuation of his <I>dolce-far-niente</I> life on the +Rancho Palomar under the careless, generous, and rather shiftless +administration of his father was not for him. Indeed, the threatened +invasion of the San Gregorio by Japanese rendered imperative an +immediate decision to that effect. He was the first of an ancient +lineage who had even dreamed of progress; he <I>had</I> progressed, and he +could never, by any possibility, afford to retrograde. +</P> + +<P> +The Farrels had never challenged competition. They had been content to +make their broad acres pay a sum sufficient to meet operating-expenses +and the interest-charges on the ancient mortgage, meanwhile supporting +themselves in all the ease and comfort of their class by nibbling at +their principal. Just how far his ancestors had nibbled, the last of +the Farrels was not fully informed, but he was young and optimistic, +and believed that, with proper management and the application of modern +ranching principles, he would succeed, by the time he was fifty, in +saving this principality intact for those who might come after him, for +it was not a part of his life plan to die childless—now that the war +was over and he out of it practically with a whole skin. This aspect +of his future he considered as the train rolled into the Southland. He +was twenty-eight years old, and he had never been in love, although, +since his twenty-first birthday, his father and Don Juan Sepulvida, of +the Rancho Carpajo, had planned a merger of their involved estates +through the simple medium of a merger of their families. Anita +Sepulvida was a beauty that any man might be proud of; her blood was of +the purest and best, but, with a certain curious hard-headedness (the +faint strain of Scotch in him, in all likelihood), Don Mike had +declined to please the oldsters by paying court to her. +</P> + +<P> +"There's sufficient of the <I>mañana</I> spirit in our tribe now, even with +the Celtic admixture," he had declared forcibly. "I believe that like +begets like in the human family as well as in the animal kingdom, and +we know from experience that it never fails there. An infusion of pep +is what our family needs, and I'll be hanged if I relish the job of +rehabilitating two decayed estates for a posterity that I know could no +more compete with the Anglo-Saxon race than did their ancestors." +</P> + +<P> +Whereat, old Don Miguel, who possessed a large measure of the Celtic +instinct for domination, had informed Don Mike that the latter was too +infernally particular. By the blood of the devil, his son's statement +indicated a certain priggishness, which he, Don Miguel, could not +deplore too greatly. +</P> + +<P> +"You taught me pride of race," his son reminded him. "I merely desire +to improve our race by judicious selection when I mate. And, of +course, I'll have to love the woman I marry. And I do not love Anita +Sepulvida." +</P> + +<P> +"She loves you," the old don had declared bluntly. +</P> + +<P> +"Then she's playing in hard luck. Believe me, father, I'm no prig, but +I do realize the necessity for grafting a little gringo hustle to our +family tree. Consider the supergrandson you will have if you leave me +to follow my own desires in this matter. In him will be blended the +courtliness and chivalry of Spain, the imagery and romance and +belligerency of the Irish, the thrift and caution of the Scotch, and +the go-get-him-boy, knock-down-and-drag-out spirit of our own Uncle +Sam. Why, that's a combination you cannot improve upon!" +</P> + +<P> +"I wish I could fall in love with some fine girl, marry her, and give +my father optical assurance, before he passes on, that the Farrel tribe +is not, like the mule, without pride of ancestry or hope of posterity," +he mused; "but I'll be shot if I'll ever permit myself to fall in love +with the sort of woman I want until I know I have something more +tangible than love and kisses to offer her. About all I own in this +world is this old uniform and Panchito—and I'm getting home just in +time to prevent my father from selling him at auction for the benefit +of my estate. And since I'm going to chuck this uniform to-morrow and +give Panchito away the day after—by the gods of War, that girl gave me +a fright when she was trying to remember the name of old man Gonzales's +ranch! If it had been the Palomar instead of the Palomares! I might +be able to stand the sight of Japs on the Palomares end of the San +Gregorio, but on the Palomar———" +</P> + +<P> +At four o'clock, when the train whistled for Sespe, he hurried back to +the observation-car to procure his baggage preparatory to alighting +from the train. The girl sat in the seat opposite his, and she looked +up at him now with friendly eyes. +</P> + +<P> +"Would you care to leave your things in the car and entrust them to +father's man?" she queried. "We would be glad to take them in the +motor as far as the mission. My father suggested it," she added. +</P> + +<P> +"Your father's a brick. I shall be happy to accept, thank you. Just +tell the chauffeur to leave them off in front of the mission and I'll +pick them up when I come over the trail from Sespe. I can make far +better time over the hills without this suitcase, light as it is." +</P> + +<P> +"You're exceedingly welcome, Sergeant. And, by the way, I have decided +not to contest your right to Panchito. It wouldn't be sporty of me to +outbid you for your dead buddy's horse." +</P> + +<P> +His heart leaped. +</P> + +<P> +"I think you're tremendously sweet," he declared bluntly. "As matters +stand, we happen to have a half-brother of Panchito up on the +ranch—or, at least, we did have when I enlisted. He's coming four, +and he ought to be a beauty. I'll break him for you myself. However," +he added, with a deprecatory grin, "I—I realize you're not the sort of +girl who accepts gifts from strangers; so, if you have a nickel on you, +I'll sell you this horse, sight unseen. If he's gone, I'll give the +nickel back." +</P> + +<P> +"You are quite right," she replied, with an arch smile. "I could not +possibly accept a gift from a stranger. Neither could I buy a horse +from a stranger—no; not even at the ridiculous price of five cents." +</P> + +<P> +"Perhaps if I introduced myself—have I your permission to be that +bold?" +</P> + +<P> +"Well," she replied, still with that bright, friendly, understanding +smile, "that might make a difference." +</P> + +<P> +"I do not deserve such consideration. Consequently, for your gentle +forbearance, you shall be accorded a unique privilege—that of meeting +a dead soldier. I am Miguel José Farrel, better known as 'Don Mike,' +of the Rancho Palomar, and I own Panchito. To quote the language of +Mark Twain, 'the report of my death has been grossly exaggerated,' as +is the case of several thousand other soldiers in this man's army." He +chuckled as he saw a look of amazement replace the sweet smile. "And +you are Miss—" he queried. +</P> + +<P> +She did not answer. She could only stare at him, and in that look he +thought he noted signs of perturbation. While he had talked, the train +had slid to a momentary halt for the flag-station, and while he waited +now for her name, the train began creeping out of Sespe. +</P> + +<P> +"All right," he laughed. "You can tell me your name when we meet +again. I must run for it. Good-by." He hurried through the screen +door to the platform, stepped over the brass railing, and clung there a +moment, looking back into the car at her before dropping lightly to the +ground between the tracks. +</P> + +<P> +"Now what the devil is the meaning of that?" he mused, as he stood +there watching the train. "There were tears in her eyes." +</P> + +<P> +He crossed the tracks, climbed a fence, and after traversing a small +piece of bottom-land, entered a trail through the chaparral, and +started his upward climb to the crest of the range that hid the San +Gregorio. Suddenly he paused. +</P> + +<P> +Had the girl's unfamiliarity with Spanish names caused her to confuse +Palomar with Palomares? And why was Panchito to be sold at auction? +Was it like his father to sacrifice his son's horse to any fellow with +the money to buy him? No! No! Rather would he sell his own mount and +retain Panchito for the sake of the son he mourned as dead. The +Palomares end of the San Gregorio was too infertile to interest an +experienced agriculturist like Okada; there wasn't sufficient acreage +to make a colonization-scheme worth while. On the contrary, fifty +thousand acres of the Rancho Palomar lay in the heart of the valley and +immediately contiguous to the flood-waters at the head of the +ghost-river for which the valley was named. +</P> + +<P> +Don Mike, of Palomar, leaned against the bole of a scrub-oak and closed +his eyes in sudden pain. Presently, he roused himself and went his way +with uncertain step, for, from time to time, tears blinded him. And +the last of the sunlight had faded from the San Gregorio before he +topped the crest of its western boundary; the melody of Brother +Flavio's angelus had ceased an hour previous, and over the mountains to +the east a full moon stood in a cloudless sky, flooding the silent +valley with its silver light, and pricking out in bold relief the +gray-white walls of the Mission de la Madre Dolorosa, crumbling +souvenir of a day that was done. +</P> + +<P> +He ran down the long hill, and came presently to the mission. In the +grass beside the white road, he searched for his straw suitcase, his +gas-mask, and the helmet, but failing to find them, he concluded the +girl had neglected to remind her father's chauffeur to throw them off +in front of the mission, as promised. So he passed along the front of +the ancient pile and let himself in through a wooden door in the high +adobe wall that surrounded the churchyard immediately adjacent to the +mission. With the assurance of one who treads familiar ground, he +strode rapidly up a weed-grown path to a spot where a tall +black-granite monument proclaimed that here rested the clay of one +superior to his peon and Indian neighbors. And this was so, for the +shaft marked the grave of the original Michael Joseph Farrel, the +adventurer the sea had cast up on the shore of San Marcos County. +</P> + +<P> +Immediately to the left of this monument, Don Mike saw a grave that had +not been there when he left the Palomar. At the head of it stood a +tile taken from the ruin of the mission roof, and on this brown tile +some one had printed in rude lettering with white paint: +</P> + +<CENTER> +<P CLASS="noindent"> +Falleció<BR> +Don Miguel José Noriaga Farrel<BR> +Nacio, Junio 3, 1841<BR> +Muerto, Deciembre 29, 1919. +</P> +</CENTER> + +<P> +The last scion of that ancient house knelt in the mold of his father's +grave and made the sign of the cross. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap05"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +V +</H3> + + +<P> +The tears which Don Mike Farrel had descried in the eyes of his +acquaintance on the train were, as he came to realize when he climbed +the steep cattle-trail from Sespe, the tribute of a gentle heart moved +to quick and uncontrollable sympathy. Following their conversation in +the dining-car, the girl—her name was Kay Parker—had continued her +luncheon, her mind busy with thoughts of this strange home-bound +ex-soldier who had so signally challenged her attention. "There's +breeding back of that man," the girl mused. "He's only a rancher's son +from the San Gregorio; where did he acquire his drawing-room manners?" +</P> + +<P> +She decided, presently, that they were not drawing-room manners. They +were too easy and graceful and natural to have been acquired. He must +have been born with them. There was something old-fashioned about +him—as if part of him dwelt in the past century. He appeared to be +quite certain of himself, yet there was not even a hint of ego in his +cosmos. His eyes were wonderful—and passionless, like a boy's. Yes; +there was a great deal of the little boy about him, for all his years, +his wounds, and his adventures. Kay thought him charming, yet he did +not appear to be aware of his charm, and this fact increased her +attraction to him. It pleased her that he had preferred to discuss the +Japanese menace rather than his own exploits, and had been human enough +to fly in a rage when told of her father's plans with the potato baron. +Nevertheless, he had himself under control, for he had smothered his +rage as quickly as he had permitted it to flare up. +</P> + +<P> +"Curious man!" the girl concluded. "However—he's a man, and when we +meet again, I'm going to investigate thoroughly and see what else he +has in his head." +</P> + +<P> +Upon further reflection, she reminded herself that he hadn't disclosed, +in anything he had said, the fact that his head contained thoughts or +information of more than ordinary value. He had merely created that +impression. Even his discussion of the Japanese problem had been +cursory, and, as she mentally back-tracked on their conversation, the +only striking remark of his which she recalled was his whimsical +assurance that he knew why young turkeys are hard to raise in the fall. +She smiled to herself. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, Kay, did you find him pleasant company?" +</P> + +<P> +She looked up and discovered her father slipping into the chair so +lately vacated by the object of her thoughts. +</P> + +<P> +"'Lo, pop! You mean the ex-soldier?" He nodded. "Queerest man I've +ever met. But he is pleasant company." +</P> + +<P> +"I thought so. Tell me, daughter: What you were smiling about just +now." +</P> + +<P> +"He said he knew why young turkeys are hard to raise in the fall." +</P> + +<P> +"Why are they?" +</P> + +<P> +"I don't know, dear. He didn't tell me. Can you?" +</P> + +<P> +"The problem is quite beyond me, Kay." He unfolded his napkin. +"Splendid-looking young chap, that! Struck me he ought to have more in +his head than frivolous talk about the difficulty of rearing young +turkeys." +</P> + +<P> +"I think he has a great deal more in his head than that. In fact, I do +not understand why he should have mentioned young turkeys at all, +because he's a cattleman. And he comes from the San Gregorio valley." +</P> + +<P> +"Indeed! What's his name?" +</P> + +<P> +"He didn't tell me. But he knows all about the ranch you took over +from the Gonzales estate." +</P> + +<P> +"But I didn't foreclose on that. It was the Farrel estate." +</P> + +<P> +"He called it something else—the Palomares rancho, I think." +</P> + +<P> +"Gonzales owns the Palomares rancho, but the Palomar rancho belonged to +old Don Miguel Farrel." +</P> + +<P> +"Was he the father of the boy they call 'Don Mike'—he who was killed +in Siberia?"' +</P> + +<P> +"The same." +</P> + +<P> +"Why did you have to foreclose on his ranch, father?" +</P> + +<P> +"Well, the interest had been unpaid for two years, and the old man was +getting pretty feeble; so, after the boy was killed, I realized that +was the end of the Farrel dynasty and that the mortgage would never be +paid. Consequently, in self-protection, I foreclosed. Of course, +under the law, Don Miguel had a year's grace in which to redeem the +property, and during that year I couldn't take possession without first +proving that he was committing waste upon it. However, the old man +died of a broken heart a few months after receiving news of his son's +death, and, in the protection of my interest, I was forced to petition +the court to grant me permission to enter into possession. It was my +duty to protect the equity of the heirs, if any." +</P> + +<P> +"Are there any heirs?" +</P> + +<P> +"None that we have been able to discover." +</P> + +<P> +The girl thoughtfully traced a pattern on the tablecloth with the tine +of her fork. +</P> + +<P> +"How will it be possible for you to acquire that horse, Panchito, for +me, dearest?" she queried presently. +</P> + +<P> +"I have a deficiency judgment against the Rancho Palomar," he +explained. "Consequently, upon the expiration of the redemption period +of one year, I shall levy an attachment against the Farrel estate. All +the property will be sold at public auction by the sheriff to satisfy +my deficiency judgment, and I shall, of course, bid in this horse." +</P> + +<P> +"I have decided I do not want him, father," she informed him half +sadly. "The ex-soldier is an old boyhood chum of the younger Farrel +who was killed, and he wants the horse." +</P> + +<P> +He glanced at her with an expression of shrewd suspicion. +</P> + +<P> +"As you desire, honey," he replied. +</P> + +<P> +"But I want you to see to it that nobody else outbids him for the +horse," she continued, earnestly. "If some one should run the price up +beyond the limits of his purse, of course I want you to outbid that +some one, but what I do not desire you to do is to run the price up on +him yourself. He wants the horse out of sentiment, and it isn't nice +to force a wounded ex-service-man to pay a high price for his +sentiment." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, I understand now," her father assured her. "Very well, little +daughter; I have my orders and will obey them." +</P> + +<P> +"Precious old darling!" she whispered, gratefully, and pursed her +adorable lips to indicate to him that he might consider himself kissed. +His stern eyes softened in a glance of father-love supreme. +</P> + +<P> +"Whose little girl are you?" he whispered, and, to that ancient query +of parenthood, she gave the reply of childhood: +</P> + +<P> +"Daddy's." +</P> + +<P> +"Just for that, I'll offer the soldier a tremendous profit on Panchito. +We'll see what his sentiment is worth." +</P> + +<P> +"Bet you a new hat, angel-face, you haven't money enough to buy him," +Kay challenged. +</P> + +<P> +"Considering the cost of your hats, I'd be giving you rather long odds, +Kay. You say this young man comes from the San Gregorio valley?" +</P> + +<P> +"So he informed me." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, there isn't a young man in the San Gregorio who doesn't need a +couple of thousand dollars far worse than he needs a horse. I'll take +your bet, Peaches. Of course you mentioned to him the fact that you +wanted this horse?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes. And he said I couldn't have him—that he was going to acquire +him." +</P> + +<P> +"Perhaps he was merely jesting with you." +</P> + +<P> +"No; he meant it." +</P> + +<P> +"I believe," he said, smiling, "that it is most unusual of young men to +show such selfish disregard of your expressed desires." +</P> + +<P> +"Flatterer! I like him all the more for it. He's a man with some +backbone." +</P> + +<P> +"So I noticed. He wears the ribbon of the Congressional Medal of +Honor. Evidently he is given to exceeding the speed-limit. Did he +tell you how he won that pale-blue ribbon with the little white stars +sprinkled on it?" +</P> + +<P> +"He did not. Such men never discuss those things." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, they raise fighting men in the San Gregorio, at any rate," her +father continued. "Two Medal-of-Honor men came out of it. Old Don +Miguel Farrel's boy was awarded one posthumously. I was in El Toro the +day the commanding general of the Western Department came down from San +Francisco and pinned the medal on old Don Miguel's breast. The old +fellow rode in on his son's horse, and when the little ceremony was +over, he mounted and rode back to the ranch alone. Not a tear, not a +quiver. He looked as regal as the American eagle—and as proud. +Looking at that old don, one could readily imagine the sort of son he +had bred. The only trouble with the Farrels," he added, critically, +"was that they and work never got acquainted. If these old +Californians would consent to imbibe a few lessons in industry and +economy from their Japanese neighbors, their wonderful state would be +supporting thirty million people a hundred years from now." +</P> + +<P> +"I wonder how many of that mythical thirty millions would be Japs?" she +queried, innocently. +</P> + +<P> +"That is a problem with which we will not have to concern ourselves, +Kay, because we shall not be here." +</P> + +<P> +"Some day, popsy-wops, that soldier will drop in at our ranch and lock +horns with you on the Japanese question." +</P> + +<P> +"When he does," Parker replied, good-naturedly, "I shall make a +star-spangled monkey out of him. I'm loaded for these Californians. +I've investigated their arguments, and they will not hold water, I tell +you. I'll knock out the contentions of your unknown knight like +tenpins in a bowling-alley. See if I don't." +</P> + +<P> +"He's nobody's fool, dad." +</P> + +<P> +"Quite so. He knows why young turkeys are hard to raise in the fall?" +</P> + +<P> +She bent upon him a radiant smile of the utmost good humor. +</P> + +<P> +"Score one for the unknown knight," she bantered. "That is more than +we know. And turkey was sixty cents a pound last Thanksgiving! +Curious information from our view-point, perhaps, but profitable." +</P> + +<P> +He chuckled over his salad. +</P> + +<P> +"You're hopelessly won to the opposition," he declared. "Leave your +check for me, and I'll pay it. And if your unknown knight returns to +the observation-car, ask him about those confounded turkeys." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap06"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +VI +</H3> + + +<P> +But the unknown knight had not returned to the observation-car until +the long train was sliding into Sespe, and Kay had no time to satisfy +her thirst for information anent young turkeys. With unexpected +garrulity, he had introduced himself; with the receipt of this +information, she had been rendered speechless, first with surprise, and +then with distress as her alert mind swiftly encompassed the pitiful +awakening that was coming to this joyous home-comer. Before she could +master her emotions, he was disappearing over the brass rail at the end +of the observation-car; even as he waved her a debonair farewell, she +caught the look of surprise and puzzlement in his black eyes. +Wherefore, she knew the quick tears had betrayed her. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, you poor fellow!" she whispered to herself, as she dabbed at her +eyes with a wisp of a lace handkerchief. "What a tragedy!" +</P> + +<P> +What a tragedy, indeed! +</P> + +<P> +She had never been in the San Gregorio, and to-day was to mark her +first visit to the Rancho Palomar, although her father and mother and +the servants had been occupying the Farrel hacienda for the past two +months. Of the beauty of that valley, of the charm of that ancient +seat, she had heard much from her parents; if they could be so +enthusiastic about it in two short months, how tremendously attached to +it must be this cheerful Don Mike, who had been born and raised there, +who was familiar with every foot of it, and doubtless cherished every +tradition connected with it. He had imagination, and in imaginative +people wounds drive deep and are hard to heal; he loved this land of +his, not with the passive loyalty of the average American citizen, but +with the strange, passionate intensity of the native Californian for +his state. She had met many Californians, and, in this one particular, +they had all been alike. No matter how far they had wandered from the +Golden West, no matter how long or how pleasant had been their exile, +they yearned, with a great yearning, for that intangible something that +all Californians feel but can never explain—which is found nowhere +save in this land of romance and plenty, of hearty good will, of life +lived without too great effort, and wherein the desire to play gives +birth to that large and kindly tolerance that is the unfailing +sweetener of all human association. +</P> + +<P> +And Don Mike was hurrying home to a grave in the valley, to a home no +longer his, to the shock of finding strangers ensconced in the seat of +his prideful ancestors, to the prospect of seeing the rich acres that +should have been his giving sustenance to an alien race, while he must +turn to a brutal world for his daily bread earned by the sweat of his +brow. +</P> + +<P> +Curiously enough, in that moment, without having given very much +thought to the subject, she decided that she must help him bear it. In +a vague way, she felt that she must see him and talk with him before he +should come in contact with her father and mother. She wanted to +explain matters, hoping that he would understand that she, at least, +was one of the interlopers who were not hostile to him. +</P> + +<P> +For she did, indeed, feel like an interloper now. But, at the same +time, she realized, despite her small knowledge of the law, that, until +the expiration of the redemption period, the equity of Don Mike in the +property was unassailable. With that unpleasant sense of having +intruded came the realization that to-night the Parker family would +occupy the position of uninvited and unwelcome guests. It was not a +comfortable thought. +</P> + +<P> +Fortunately, the potato baron and her father were up in the smoker; +hence, by the time the train paused at El Toro, Kay had composed +herself sufficiently to face her father again without betraying to him +any hint of the mental disturbance of the past forty minutes. She +directed the porter in the disposition of Don Mike's scant impedimenta, +and watched to see that the Parker chauffeur carried it from the +station platform over to the waiting automobile. As he was lashing +their hand-baggage on the running-board, she said, +</P> + +<P> +"William, how long will it take you to get out to the ranch?" +</P> + +<P> +"Twenty miles, miss, over a narrow dirt road, and some of it winds +among hills. I ought to do it handily in an hour without taking any +chances." +</P> + +<P> +"Take a few chances," she ordered, in a voice meant for his ear alone. +"I'm in a hurry." +</P> + +<P> +"Forty-five minutes, miss," he answered, in the same confidential tone. +</P> + +<P> +Kay sat in the front seat with William, while her father and Okada +occupied the tonneau. Within a few minutes, they were clear of the +town and rolling swiftly across a three-mile-wide mesa. Then they +entered a long, narrow cañon, which they traversed for several miles, +climbed a six-per-cent. grade to the crest of a ridge, rolled down into +another cañon, climbed another ridge, and from the summit gazed down on +the San Gregorio in all the glory of her new April gown. Kay gasped +with the shock of such loveliness, and laid a detaining hand on the +chauffeur's arm. Instantly he stopped the car. +</P> + +<P> +"I always get a kick out of the view from here, miss," he informed her. +"Can you beat it? You can't!" +</P> + +<P> +The girl sat with parted lips. +</P> + +<P> +"This—this is the California he loves," she thought. +</P> + +<P> +She closed her eyes to keep back the tears, and the car rolled gently +down the grade into the valley. From the tonneau she could catch +snatches of the conversation between her father and the potato baron; +they were discussing the agricultural possibilities of the valley, and +she realized, with a little twinge of outrage, that its wonderful +pastoral beauty had been quite lost on them. +</P> + +<P> +As they swept past the mission, Kay deliberately refrained from +ordering William to toss Don Mike's baggage off in front of the old +pile, for she knew now whither the latter was bound. She would save +him that added burden. Three miles from the mission, the road swung up +a gentle grade between two long rows of ancient and neglected palms. +The dead, withered fronds of a decade still clung to the corrugated +trunks. In the adjoining oaks vast flocks of crows perched and cawed +raucously. This avenue of palms presently debouched onto a little +mesa, oak-studded and covered with lush grass, which gave it a pretty, +parklike effect. In the center of this mesa stood the hacienda of the +Rancho Palomar. +</P> + +<P> +Like all adobe dwellings of its class, it was not now, nor had it ever +been, architecturally beautiful. It was low, with a plain hip-roof +covered with ancient red tiles, many of which were missing. When the +house had first been built, it had been treated to a coat of excellent +plaster over the adobe, and this plaster had never been renewed. With +the attrition of time and the elements, it had worn away in spots, +through which the brown adobe bricks showed, like the bones in a +decaying corpse. The main building faced down the valley; from each +end out, an ell extended to form a patio in the rear, while a +seven-foot adobe wall, topped with short tile, connected with the ell +and formed a parallelogram. +</P> + +<P> +"The old ruin doesn't look very impressive from the front, Kay," her +father explained, as he helped her out of the car, "but that wall hides +an old-fashioned garden that will delight you. A porch runs all round +the inside of the house, and every door opens on the patio. That long +adobe barracks over yonder used to house the help. In the old days, a +small army of peons was maintained here. The small adobe house back +there in the trees houses the majordomo—that old rascal, Pablo." +</P> + +<P> +"He is still here, dad?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes—and as belligerent as old billy-owl. He pretends to look after +the stock. I ordered him off the ranch last week; but do you think +he'd go? Not much. He went inside his shack, sorted out a rifle, came +outside, sat down, and fondled the weapon all day long. Ever since +then he has carried it, mounted or afoot. So I haven't bothered him. +He's a bad old Indian, and when I secure final title to the ranch, I'll +have the sheriff of the county come out and remove him." +</P> + +<P> +"But how does he live, dear?" +</P> + +<P> +"How does any Indian live? He killed a steer last week, jerked half of +it, and sold the other half for some beans and flour. It wasn't his +steer and it wasn't mine. It belonged to the Farrel estate, and, since +there is nobody to lodge a complaint against him, I suppose he'll kill +another steer when his rations run low. This way, daughter. Right +through the hole in the wall." +</P> + +<P> +They passed through a big inset gate in the adobe wall, into the patio. +At once the scent of lemon and orange blossoms, mingled with the more +delicate aroma of flowers, assailed them. Kay stood, entranced, gazing +upon the hodgepodge of color; she had the feeling of having stepped out +of one world into another. +</P> + +<P> +Her father stood watching her. +</P> + +<P> +"Wonderful old place, isn't it, Kay?" he suggested. "The garden has +been neglected, but I'm going to clean it out." +</P> + +<P> +"Do not touch it," she commanded, almost sharply. "I want it the way +it is." +</P> + +<P> +"You little tyrant!" he replied good-naturedly. "You run me ragged and +make me like it." +</P> + +<P> +From a rocker on the porch at the eastern end of the patio Kay's mother +rose and called to them, and the girl darted away to greet her. Mrs. +Parker folded the girl to a somewhat ample bosom and kissed her +lovingly on her ripe red lips; to her husband she presented a cheek +that showed to advantage the artistry of a member of that tribe of +genii who strive so valiantly to hold in check the ravages of age. At +fifty, Kay's mother was still a handsome woman; her carriage, her +dress, and a certain repressed vivacity indicated that she had mastered +the art of growing old gracefully. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, kitten," she said, a trifle louder and shriller than one seemed +to expect of her, "are you going to remain with us a little while, or +will next week see you scampering away again?" +</P> + +<P> +"I'll stay all summer, fuss-budget. I'm going to paint the San +Gregorio while it's on exhibition, and then this old house and the +garden. Oh, mother dear, I'm in love with it! It's wonderful!" +</P> + +<P> +The potato baron had followed Parker and his daughter into the patio, +and stood now, showing all of his teeth in an amiable smile. Parker +suddenly remembered his guest. +</P> + +<P> +"My dear," he addressed his wife, "I have brought a guest with me. +This is Mr. Okada, of whom I wrote you." +</P> + +<P> +Okada bowed low—as low as the rules of Japanese etiquette prescribe, +which is to say that he bent himself almost double. At the same time, +he lifted his hat. Then he bowed again twice, and, with a pleasing +smile proffered his hand. Mrs. Parker took it and shook it with hearty +good will. +</P> + +<P> +"You are very welcome, Mr. Okada," she shrilled. "Murray," she added, +turning to the butler, who was approaching with Okada's suitcase, "show +the gentleman to the room with the big bed in it. Dinner will be ready +at six, Mr. Okada. Please do not bother to dress for dinner. We're +quite informal here." +</P> + +<P> +"Sank you very much," he replied, with an unpleasant whistling intake +of breath; with another profound bow to the ladies, he turned and +followed Murray to his room. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, John," Mrs. Parker demanded, as the Japanese disappeared, "your +little playmate's quite like a mechanical toy. For heaven's sake, +where did you pal up with him?" +</P> + +<P> +"That's the potato baron of the San Joaquin valley, Kate," he informed +her. "I'm trying to interest him in a colonization scheme for his +countrymen. A thousand Japs in the San Gregorio can raise enough +garden-truck to feed the city of Los Angeles—and they will pay a +whooping price for good land with water on it. So I brought him along +for a preliminary survey of the deal." +</P> + +<P> +"He's very polite, but I imagine he's not very brilliant company," his +wife averred frankly. "When you wired me you were bringing a guest, I +did hope you'd bring some jolly young jackanapes to arouse Kay and me." +</P> + +<P> +She sighed and settled back in her comfortable rocking-chair, while +Kay, guided by a maid, proceeded to her room. A recent job of +calcimining had transformed the room from a dirty grayish, white to a +soft shade of pink; the old-fashioned furniture had been "done over," +and glowed dully in the fading light. Kay threw open the small +square-hinged window, gazed through the iron bars sunk in the thick +walls, and she found herself looking down the valley, more beautiful +than ever now in the rapidly fading light. +</P> + +<P> +"I'll have to wait outside for him," she thought. "It will be dark +when he gets here." +</P> + +<P> +She washed and changed into a dainty little dinner dress, after which +she went on a tour of exploration of the hacienda. Her first port of +call was the kitchen. +</P> + +<P> +"Nishi," she informed the cook, "a gentleman will arrive shortly after +the family has finished dinner. Keep his dinner in the oven. Murray +will serve it to him in his room, I think." +</P> + +<P> +She passed out through the kitchen, and found herself in the rear of +the hacienda. A hundred yards distant, she saw Pablo Artelan squatting +on his heels beside the portal of his humble residence, his back +against the wall. She crossed over to him, smiling as she came. +</P> + +<P> +"How do you do, Pablo?" she said. "Have you forgotten me? I'm the +girl to whom you were kind enough to give a ride on Panchito one day in +El Toro." +</P> + +<P> +The glowering glance of suspicion and resentment faded slowly from old +Pablo's swarthy countenance. He scrambled to his feet and swept the +ground with his old straw sombrero, +</P> + +<P> +"I am at the service of the <I>señorita</I>," he replied, gravely. +</P> + +<P> +"Thank you, Pablo. I just wanted to tell you that you need not carry +that rifle any more. I shall see to it that you are not removed from +the ranch." +</P> + +<P> +He stared at her with stolid interest. +</P> + +<P> +"<I>Muchas gracias, señorita</I>," he mumbled. Then, remembering she did +not understand Spanish, he resumed in English: "I am an old man, mees. +Since my two boss he's die, pretty soon Pablo die, too. For what use +eet is for live now I don' tell you. Those ol' man who speak me leave +theese rancho—he is your father, no?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, Pablo. And he isn't such a terrible man, once you get acquainted +with him." +</P> + +<P> +"I don' like," Pablo muttered frankly. "He have eye like +lookin'-glass. Mebbeso for you, mees, eet is different, but for Pablo +Artelan———" he shrugged. "Eef Don Mike is here, nobody can talk to +me like dose ol' man, your father, he speak to me." And he wagged his +head sorrowfully. +</P> + +<P> +Kay came close to him. +</P> + +<P> +"Listen, Pablo: I have a secret for you. You, must not tell anybody. +Don Mike is not dead." +</P> + +<P> +He raised his old head with languid interest and nodded comprehension. +</P> + +<P> +"My wife, Carolina, she tell me same thing all time. She say: '<I>Pablo +mio</I>, somebody make beeg mistake. Don Mike come home pretty queeck, +you see. Nobody can keel Don Mike. Nobody have that mean the +deesposition for keel the boy.' But I don' theenk Don Mike come back +to El Palomar." +</P> + +<P> +"Carolina is right, Pablo. Somebody did make a big mistake. He was +wounded in the hand, but not killed. I saw him to-day, Pablo, on the +train." +</P> + +<P> +"You see Don Mike? You see heem with the eye?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes. And he spoke to me with the tongue. He will arrive here in an +hour." +</P> + +<P> +Pablo was on his knees before her, groping for her hand. Finding it, +he carried it to his lips. Then, leaping to his feet with an alacrity +that belied his years, he yelled: +</P> + +<P> +"Carolina! Come queeck, <I>Pronto</I>! <I>Aquí</I>, Carolina." +</P> + +<P> +"<I>Si, Pablo mio</I>." +</P> + +<P> +Carolina appeared in the doorway and was literally deluged with a +stream of Spanish. She stood there, hands clasped on her tremendous +bosom, staring unbelievingly at the bearer of these tidings of great +joy, the while tears cascaded down her flat, homely face. With a snap +of his fingers, Pablo dismissed her; then he darted into the house and +emerged with his rifle. A cockerel, with the carelessness of youth, +had selected for his roost the limb of an adjacent oak and was still +gazing about him instead of secreting his head under his wing, as +cockerels should at sunset. Pablo neatly shot his head off, seized the +fluttering carcass, and started plucking out the feathers with neatness +and despatch. +</P> + +<P> +"Don Mike, he's like <I>gallina con arroz espagñol</I>," he explained. +"What you, call chick-een with rice Spanish," he interpreted. "Eet +mus' not be that Don Mike come home and Carolina have not cook for heem +the grub he like. <I>Carramba</I>!" +</P> + +<P> +"But he cannot possibly eat a chicken before—I mean, it's too soon. +Don Mike will not eat that chicken before the animal-heat is out of it." +</P> + +<P> +"You don' know Don Mike, mees. Wen dat boy he's hongry, he don' speak +so many questions." +</P> + +<P> +"But I've told our cook to save dinner for him."' +</P> + +<P> +"Your cook! <I>Señorita</I>, I don' like make fun for you, but I guess you +don' know my wife Carolina, she have been cook for Don Miguel and Don +Mike since long time before he's beeg like little kitten. Don Mike, he +don' understand those gringo grub." +</P> + +<P> +"Listen, Pablo: There is no time to cook Don Mike a Spanish dinner. He +must eat gringo grub to-night. Tell me, Pablo: Which room did Don Mike +sleep in when he was home?" +</P> + +<P> +"The room in front the house—the beeg room with the beeg black bed. +Carolina!" He threw the half-plucked chicken at the old cook, wiped +his hands on his overalls, and started for the hacienda. "I go for +make the bed for Don Mike," he explained, and started running. +</P> + +<P> +Kay followed breathlessly, but he reached the patio before her, +scuttled along the porch with surprising speed, and darted into the +room. Immediately the girl heard his voice raised angrily. +</P> + +<P> +"Hullo! What you been do in my boss's room? <I>Madre de Dios</I>! You +theenk I let one Chinaman—no, one Jap—sleep in the bed of Don +Victoriano Noriaga. No! <I>Vamos</I>!" +</P> + +<P> +There was a slight scuffle, and the potato baron came hurtling through +the door, propelled on the boot of the aged but exceedingly vigorous +Pablo. Evidently the Jap had been taken by surprise. He rolled off +the porch into a flower-bed, recovered himself, and flew at Pablo with +the ferocity of a bulldog. To the credit of his race, be it said that +it does not subscribe to the philosophy of turning the other cheek. +</P> + +<P> +But Pablo was a peon. From somewhere on his person, he produced a dirk +and slashed vigorously. Okada evaded the blow, and gave ground. +</P> + +<P> +"<I>Quidado</I>!" Pablo roared, and charged; whereupon the potato baron, +evidently impressed with the wisdom of the ancient adage that +discretion is the better part of valor, fled before him. Pablo +followed, opened the patio gate, and, with his long dirk, motioned the +Jap to disappear through it. "The hired man, he don' sleep in the bed +of the <I>gente</I>," he declared. "The barn is too good for one Jap. +<I>Santa Maria</I>! For why I don' keel you, I don' know." +</P> + +<P> +"Pablo!" +</P> + +<P> +The majordomo turned. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, mees lady." +</P> + +<P> +"Mr. Okada is our guest. I command you to leave him alone. Mr. Okada, +I apologize to you for Pablo's impetuosity. He is not a servant of +ours, but a retainer of the former owner. Pablo, will you please +attend to your own business?" Kay was angry now, and Pablo realized it. +</P> + +<P> +"Don Mike's beesiness, she is my beesiness, too, señorita," he growled. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes; I zink so," Okada declared. "I zink I go 'nother room." +</P> + +<P> +"Murray will prepare one for you, Mr. Okada. I'm so sorry this has +happened. Indeed I am!" +</P> + +<P> +Pablo hooted. +</P> + +<P> +"You sorry, mees? Wait until my Don Mike he's come home and find thees +fellow in hees house." +</P> + +<P> +He closed the gate, returned to the room, and made a critical +inspection of the apartment. Kay could see him wagging his grizzled +head approvingly as she came to the door and looked in. +</P> + +<P> +"Where those fellow <I>El Mono</I>, he put my boss's clothes?" Pablo +demanded. +</P> + +<P> +"'<I>El Mono</I>?' Whom do you mean, Pablo?" +</P> + +<P> +"<I>El Mono</I>—the monkey. He wear long tail to the coat; all the time he +look like mebbeso somebody in the house she's goin' die pretty queeck." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, you mean Murray, the butler." +</P> + +<P> +Pablo was too ludicrous, and Kay sat down on the edge of the porch and +laughed until she wept. Then, as Pablo still stood truculently in the +doorway, waiting an answer to his query, she called to Murray, who had +rushed to the aid of the potato baron, and asked him if he had found +any clothing in the room, and, if so, what he had done with it. +</P> + +<P> +"I spotted and pressed them all, Miss Kay, and hung them in the +clothes-press of the room next door." +</P> + +<P> +"I go get," growled Pablo, and did so; whereupon the artful Murray took +advantage of his absence to dart over to the royal chamber and remove +the potato baron's effects. +</P> + +<P> +"I don't like that blackamoor, Miss Kay," <I>El Mono</I> confided to the +girl. "I feel assured he is a desperate vagabond to whom murder and +pillage are mere pastimes. Please order him out of the garden. He +pays no attention to me whatsoever." +</P> + +<P> +"Leave him severely alone," Kay advised. "I will find a way to handle +him." +</P> + +<P> +Pablo returned presently, with two suits of clothing, a soft +white-linen shirt, a black necktie, a pair of low-cut brown shoes, and +a pair of brown socks. These articles he laid out on the bed. Then he +made another trip to the other room, and returned bearing an armful of +framed portraits of the entire Noriaga and Farrel dynasty, which he +proceeded to hang in a row on the wall at the foot of the bed. Lastly, +he removed a rather fancy spread from the bed and substituted therefor +an ancient silk crazy-quilt that had been made by Don Mike's +grandmother. Things were now as they used to be, and Pablo was +satisfied. +</P> + +<P> +When he came out, Kay had gone in to dinner; so he returned to his own +<I>casa</I> and squatted against the wall, with his glance fixed upon the +point in the palm avenue where it dipped over the edge of the mesa. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap07"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +VII +</H3> + + +<P> +At seven o'clock, dinner being over, Kay excused herself to the family +and Mr. Okada, passed out through the patio gate, and sought a bench +which she had noticed under a catalpa tree outside the wall. From this +seat, she, like Pablo, could observe anybody coming up the palm-lined +avenue. A young moon was rising over the hills, and by its light Kay +knew she could detect Don Mike while he was yet some distance from the +house. +</P> + +<P> +At seven-thirty, he had not appeared, and she grew impatient and +strolled round to the other side of the hacienda. Before Pablo's +<I>casa</I>, she saw the red end of a cigarette; so she knew that Pablo also +watched. +</P> + +<P> +"I <I>must</I> see him first," she decided. "Pablo's heart is right toward +Don Mike, but resentful toward us. I do not want him to pass that +resentment on to his master." +</P> + +<P> +She turned back round the hacienda again, crossed down over the lip of +the mesa at right angles to the avenue, and picked her way through the +oaks. When she was satisfied that Pablo could not see her, she made +her way back to the avenue, emerging at the point where it connected +with the wagon-road down the valley. Just off the avenue, a live-oak +had fallen, and Kay sat down on the trunk of it to watch and wait. +</P> + +<P> +Presently she saw him coming, and her heart fluttered in fear at the +meeting. She, who had for months marked the brisk tread of military +men, sensed now the drag, the slow cadence of his approach; wherefore +she realized that he knew! In the knowledge that she would not have to +break the news to him, a sense of comfort stole over her. +</P> + +<P> +As he came closer, she saw that he walked with his chin on his breast; +when he reached the gate at the end of the avenue, he did not see it +and bumped into it. "<I>Dios mio</I>!" she heard him mutter. "<I>Dios! +Dios! Dios!</I>" The last word ended in tragic crescendo; he leaned on +the gate, and there, in the white silence, the last of the Farrels +stood gazing up the avenue as if he feared to enter. +</P> + +<P> +Kay sat on the oak trunk, staring at him, fascinated by the tragic +tableau. +</P> + +<P> +Suddenly, from the hacienda, a hound gave tongue—a long, bell-like +baying, with a timbre in it that never creeps into a hound's voice +until he has struck a warm scent. Another hound took up the cry—and +still another. Don Mike started. +</P> + +<P> +"That's Nip!" Kay heard him murmur, as the first hound sounded. "Now, +Mollie! Come now, Nailer! Where's Hunter? Hunter's dead! You've +scented me!" +</P> + +<P> +Across the mesa, the pack came bellowing, scattering the wet leaves +among the oaks as they took the short cut to the returning master. +Into the avenue they swept; the leader leaped for the top of the gate, +poised there an instant, and fell over into Don Mike's arms. The +others followed, overwhelming him. They licked his hands; they soiled +him with their reaching paws, the while their cries of welcome +testified to their delight. Presently, one grew jealous of the other +in the mad scramble for his caressing hand, and Nip bit Mollie, who +retaliated by biting Nailer, who promptly bit Nip, thus completing the +vicious circle. In an instant, they were battling each other. +</P> + +<P> +"Stop it!" Don Mike commanded. "Break!" +</P> + +<P> +They "broke" at his command, and, forgetting their animosities, began +running in circles, in a hopeless effort to express their happiness. +Suddenly, as if by common impulse, they appeared to remember a +neglected duty, and fled noisily whence they had come. +</P> + +<P> +"Ah, only my dogs to welcome me!" Kay heard Don Mike murmur. And then +the stubborn tears came and blinded him, so he did not see her white +figure step out into the avenue and come swiftly toward him. The first +he knew of her presence was when her hand touched his glistening black +head bent on his arms over the top rail of the gate. +</P> + +<P> +"No, no, Don Mike," he heard a sweet voice protesting; "somebody else +cares, too. We wouldn't be human if we didn't. Please—please try not +to feel so badly about it." +</P> + +<P> +He raised his haggard face. +</P> + +<P> +"Ah, yes—you!" he cried. "You—you've been waiting here—for me?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes. I wanted to tell you—to explain before you got to the house. +We didn't know, you see—and the notice was so terribly short; but +we'll go in the morning. I've saved dinner for you, Don Mike—and your +old room is ready for you. Oh, you don't know how sorry I am for you, +you poor man!" +</P> + +<P> +He hid his face again. +</P> + +<P> +"Don't—please!" he cried, in a choked voice. "I can't stand +sympathy—to-night—from you!" +</P> + +<P> +She laid a hand on his shoulder. +</P> + +<P> +"Come, come; you must buck up, old soldier," she assured him. "You'll +have to meet Pablo and Carolina very soon." +</P> + +<P> +"I'm so alone and desperate," he muttered, through clenched teeth. +"You can't—realize what this means—to me. My father was an old +man—he had—accomplished his years—and I weep for him, because I +loved—him. But oh, my home—this—dear land——" +</P> + +<P> +He choked, and, in that moment, she forgot that this man was a stranger +to her. She only knew that he had been stricken, that he was helpless, +that he lacked the greatest boon of the desolate—a breast upon which +he might weep. Gently she lifted the black head and drew it down on +her shoulder; her arm went round his neck and patted his cheek, and his +full heart was emptied. +</P> + +<P> +There was so much of the little boy about him! +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap08"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +VIII +</H3> + + +<P> +The fierce gust of emotion which swept Don Mike Farrel was of brief +duration. He was too sane, too courageous to permit his grief to +overwhelm him completely; he had the usual masculine horror of an +exhibition of weakness, and although the girl's sweet sympathy and +genuine womanly tenderness had caught him unawares, he was, +nevertheless, not insensible of the incongruity of a grown man weeping +like a child on the shoulder of a young woman—and a strange young +woman at that. With a supreme effort of will, he regained control of +himself as swiftly as he had lost it, and began fumbling for a +handkerchief. +</P> + +<P> +"Here," she murmured; "use mine." She reached up and, with her dainty +wisp of handkerchief, wiped his wet cheeks exactly as if he had been a +child. +</P> + +<P> +He caught the hand that wielded the handkerchief and kissed it +gratefully, reverently. +</P> + +<P> +"God bless your dear, kind heart!" he murmured. "I had thought nobody +could possibly care—that much. So few people—have any interest in +the—unhappiness of others." He essayed a twisted smile. "I'm not +usually this weak," he continued, apologetically. "I never knew until +to-night that I could be such a lubberly big baby, but, then, I wasn't +set for this blow. This afternoon, life executed an about face for +me—and the dogs got me started after I'd promised myself———" He +choked again on the last word. +</P> + +<P> +She patted his shoulder in comradely fashion. +</P> + +<P> +"Buck up, Don Mike!" she pleaded. "Tears from such men as you are +signs of strength, not weakness. And remember—life has a habit of +obeying commanding men. It may execute another about face for you." +</P> + +<P> +"I've lost everything that made life livable," he protested. +</P> + +<P> +"Ah! No, no! You must not say that. Think of that cheerful warrior +who, in defeat, remarked, 'All is lost save honor.'" And she touched +the pale-blue star-sprinkled ribbon on his left breast. +</P> + +<P> +He smiled again, the twisted smile. +</P> + +<P> +"That doesn't amount to a row of pins in civil life." Something of +that sense of bitter disillusionment, of blasted idealism, which is the +immediate aftermath of war, had crept into his voice. "The only thrill +I ever got out of its possession was in the service. My colonel was +never content merely with returning my salute. He always uncovered to +me. That ribbon will have little weight with your father, I fear, when +I ask him to set aside the foreclosure, grant me a new mortgage, and +give me a fighting chance to retain the thing I love." And his +outflung arm indicated the silent, moonlit valley. +</P> + +<P> +"Perhaps," she replied, soberly. "He is a businessman. Nevertheless, +it might not be a bad idea if you were to defer the crossing of your +bridges until you come to them." She unlatched the gate and swung it +open for him to pass through. +</P> + +<P> +He hesitated. +</P> + +<P> +"I didn't intend to enter the house to-night," he explained. "I merely +wanted to see Pablo and have a talk with him. My sudden appearance on +the scene might, perhaps, prove very embarrassing to your family." +</P> + +<P> +"I dare say. But that cannot be helped. Your right of entrance and +occupancy cannot be questioned. Until the period of redemption +expires, I think nobody will dispute your authority as master here." +</P> + +<P> +"I had forgotten that phase of the situation. Thank you." He passed +through the gate and closed it for her. Then he stepped to the side of +the road, wet his handkerchief in a pool of clean rain-water, and +mopped his eyes. "I'll have to abandon the luxury of tears," he +declared, grimly. "They make one's eyes burn. By the way, I do not +know your name." +</P> + +<P> +"I am Kay Parker." +</P> + +<P> +"'Kay' for what?" +</P> + +<P> +"Kathleen." +</P> + +<P> +He nodded approvingly. +</P> + +<P> +"You neglected to leave my dunnage at the mission; Miss Parker." +</P> + +<P> +"After you told me who you were, I realized you would sleep at the +ranch to-night, so I kept your things in the car. They are in your old +room now." +</P> + +<P> +"Thank you for an additional act of kindness and thoughtfulness." He +adjusted his overseas cap, snugged his blouse down over his hips, +flipped from it the wet sand deposited there by the paws of the +hound-pack, and said, "Let's go." +</P> + +<P> +Where the avenue debouched into the ranch-yard, Pablo and Carolina +awaited them. The old majordomo was wrapped in aboriginal dignity. +His Indian blood bade him greet Don Mike as casually as if the latter +had merely been sojourning in El Toro the past two years, but the faint +strain of Spanish in him dictated a different course as Don Mike +stepped briskly up to him with outstretched hand and greeted him +affectionately in Spanish. Off came the weather-stained old sombrero, +flung to the ground beside him, as Pablo dropped on his knees, seized +his master's hand, and bowed his head over it. +</P> + +<P> +"Don Miguel," he said, "my life is yours." +</P> + +<P> +"I know it, you blessed old scalawag!" Don Mike replied in English, and +ruffled the grizzled old head before passing on to the expectant +Carolina, who folded him tightly in her arms and wept soundlessly when +he kissed her leathery cheek. While he was murmuring words of comfort +to her, Pablo got up on his feet and recovered his hat. +</P> + +<P> +"You see," he said to Kay, in a confidential tone, "Don Miguel José +Maria Federico Noriaga Farrel loves us. Never no woman those boy kees +since hees mother die twenty year before. So Carolina have the great +honor like me. Yes!" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, but you haven't seen him kiss his sweetheart," Kay bantered the +old man—and then blushed, in the guilty knowledge that her badinage +had really been inspired by a sudden desire to learn whether Don Mike +had a sweetheart or not. Pablo promptly and profanely disillusioned +her. +</P> + +<P> +"Those boy, he don' have some sweethearts, mees lady. He's pretty +parteecular." He paused a moment and looked her in the face meaningly. +"Those girls in thees country—pah! Hee's pretty parteecular, those +boy." +</P> + +<P> +His childish arrogance and consuming pride in his master stirred the +girl's sense of humor. +</P> + +<P> +"I think your Don Mike is <I>too</I> particular," she whispered. +"Personally, I wouldn't marry him on a bet." +</P> + +<P> +His slightly bloodshot eyes flickered with rage. "You never get a +chance," he assured her. "Those boy is of the <I>gente</I>. An' we don' +call heem 'Don Mike' now. Before, yes; but now he is 'Don Miguel,' +like hees father. Same, too, like hees gran'father." +</P> + +<P> +Throughout this colloquy, Carolina had been busy exculpating herself +from possible blame due to her failure to have prepared for the +prodigal the sort of food she knew he preferred. +</P> + +<P> +Farrel had quite a task pacifying her. At length he succeeded in +gently dismissing both servants, and followed Kay toward the patio. +</P> + +<P> +The girl entered first, and discovered that her family and their guest +were not on the veranda, whereat she turned and gave her hand to Farrel. +</P> + +<P> +"The butler will bring you some dinner to your room. We breakfast at +eight-thirty. Good-night." +</P> + +<P> +"Thank you," he replied. "I shall be deeper in your debt if you will +explain to your father and mother my apparent lack of courtesy in +failing to call upon them this evening." +</P> + +<P> +He held her hand for a moment. Then he bowed, gracefully and with +studied courtesy, cap in hand, and waited until she had turned to leave +him before he, in turn, betook himself to his room. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap09"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +IX +</H3> + + +<P> +It was as he had left it. He smiled sadly as he noted his civilian +clothes laid out on the bed. However, he would not wear them to-night. +A little later, while he was hanging them in the clothes-press, a +propitiatory cough sounded at the door. Turning, he beheld the +strangest sight ever seen on the Rancho Palomar—a butler, bearing a +tray covered with a napkin. +</P> + +<P> +"Good-evening," quoth Don Miguel civilly. "Set it down on the little +table yonder, please. May I inquire why you bear the tray on your left +hand and carry a pistol in your right?" +</P> + +<P> +"Your servant, the man Pablo, has threatened my life, sir, if I dared +bear your dinner to you, sir. He met me a moment ago and demanded that +I surrender the tray to him, sir. Instead, I returned to the kitchen, +possessed myself of this pistol, and defied him, sir." +</P> + +<P> +"I apologize for Pablo, and will see to it that he does not disturb you +again—er———" +</P> + +<P> +"Murray, sir." +</P> + +<P> +"Thank you, Murray." +</P> + +<P> +The butler was about to advance into the room and set the tray on the +table as directed, when an unexpected <I>contretemps</I> occurred. A +swarthy hand followed by a chambray-clad arm was thrust in the door, +and the pistol snatched out of Murray's hand before the latter even +knew what was about to transpire. Pablo Artelan stepped into the room. +</P> + +<P> +"<I>Vamos</I>! Go!" he ordered, curtly, and relieved the astonished butler +of the tray. Murray glanced at Don Miguel. +</P> + +<P> +"Perhaps you'd better go," Don Miguel suggested, weakly. "Pablo is a +trifle jealous of the job of waiting on me. We'll iron everything out +in the morning. Good-night, Murray." +</P> + +<P> +"<I>Buenas noches, mono mio</I>," Pablo grunted. +</P> + +<P> +"I have a slight knowledge of the Spanish tongue, sir," Murray +protested. "This blackamoor has insulted me, sir. Just now he said, +in effect, 'Good-night, monkey mine.' Earlier in the evening, he +attempted to murder Mr. Parker's guest, Mr. Okada." +</P> + +<P> +"It's a pity he didn't succeed," Don Miguel replied, and drew a dollar +from his pocket. "You are very kind, Murray, but hereafter I shall not +require your attendance. Pablo, give Murray his pistol." +</P> + +<P> +Pablo returned the weapon. +</P> + +<P> +"She ees one of those leetle lady-pistols, Don Miguel. She can't kill +somebody if she try," he declared, contemptuously. Murray pouched the +dollar gratefully and beat a hurried retreat. +</P> + +<P> +From under his denim jumper, Pablo brought forth a pint of claret. +</P> + +<P> +"When the damned proheebeetion she's come, you father hee's sell fifty +cow and buy plenty booze," he explained. He broke off into Spanish. +"This wine, we stored in the old bakery, and your father entrusted me +with the key. It is true. Although it is not lawful to permit one of +my blood to have charge of wines and liquors, nevertheless, your +sainted father reposed great confidence in me. Since his death, I have +not touched one drop, although I was beset with temptation, seeing that +if we did not drink it, others would. But Carolina would have none of +it, and, as you know, your father, who is now, beyond doubt, an +archangel, was greatly opposed to any man who drank alone. How often +have I heard him declare that such fellows were not of the <I>gente</I>! +And Carolina always refused to believe that you were dead. As a +result, the years will be many before that wine is finished." +</P> + +<P> +"My good Pablo, your great faith deserves a great reward. It is my +wish that, to-night, you and Carolina shall drink one pint each to my +health. Have you given some of this wine to the Parkers?" +</P> + +<P> +Pablo shook his head vigorously. +</P> + +<P> +"That fellow, <I>El Mono</I>, was desirous of serving some to his master, +and demanded of me the key, which I refused. Later, Señor Parker made +the same demand. Him I refused also. This made him angry, and he +ordered me to depart from El Palomar. Naturally, I told him to go to +the devil. Don Miguel, this gringo grub appears to be better than I +had imagined." +</P> + +<P> +Farrel had little appetite for food, but, to please Pablo, he drank the +soup and toyed with a piece of toast and a glass of wine while the +majordomo related to him the events which had taken place at El Palomar +since that never-to-be-forgotten day when Tony Moreno had ridden in +with the telegram from Washington. +</P> + +<P> +"Your beloved father—may the smile of Jesus warm him!—said nothing +when he read this accursed message, Don Miguel. For three days, he +tasted no food; throughout the days he sat beside me on the bench under +the catalpa tree, gazing down into the San Gregorio as if he watched +for you to ride up the road. He shed no tears—at least, not in the +presence of his servants—but he was possessed of a great trembling. +At the end of the third day, I rode to the mission and informed Father +Dominic. Ah, Don Miguel, my heart was afflicted tenfold worse than +before to see that holy man weep for you. When he had wept a space, he +ordered Father Andreas to say a high mass for the repose of your soul, +while he came up to the hacienda to remind your father of the comforts +of religion. Whereat, for the first time since that vagabond Moreno +came with his evil tidings, your father smiled. 'Good Father Dominic,' +said he, 'I have need of the comfort of your presence and your +friendship, but I would not blot out with thoughts of religion the +memory of the honor that has come upon my house. God has been good to +me. To me has been given the privilege of siring a man, and I shall +not affront him with requests for further favors. To-morrow, in El +Toro, a general will pin on my breast the medal for gallantry that +belongs to my dead son. As for this trembling, it is but a palsy that +comes to many men of my age.'" +</P> + +<P> +"He had a slight touch of it before I left," Don Miguel reminded Pablo. +</P> + +<P> +"The following day," Pablo continued, "I assisted him to dress, and was +overjoyed to observe that the trembling had abated by half. By his +direction, I saddled Panchito with the black carved-leather saddle, and +he mounted with my aid and rode to El Toro. I followed on the black +mare. At El Toro, in the plaza, in the presence of all the people, a +great general shook your father's hand and pinned upon his breast the +medal that belongs to you. It was a proud moment for all of us. Then +we rode back to the San Gregorio. At the mission, your father +dismounted and went into the chapel to pray for your soul. For two +hours, I waited before entering to seek him. I found him kneeling with +his great body spread out over the <I>prie-dieu</I> where the heads of your +house have prayed since the Mission de la Madre Dolorosa was built. +His brain was alive, but one side of him was dead, and he smiled with +his eyes. We carried him home in Father Dominic's automobile, and, two +weeks later, he died in sanctity. The <I>gente</I> of San Marcos County +attended his funeral. +</P> + +<P> +"In February came <I>Señor</I> Parker, with great assurance, and endeavored +to take possession. He showed me a paper, but what do I know of +papers? I showed him your rifle, and he departed, to return with Don +Nicolás Sandoval, the sheriff, who explained matters to me and warned +me to avoid violence. I have dwelt here since in sorrow and +perplexity, and because I have ridden the fences and watched over the +stock, there has been no great effort made to disturb me. They have a +cook—a Japanese, and two Japanese women servants. Also, this evening, +Señor Parker brought with him as a guest another Japanese, whom he +treats with as much consideration as if the fellow were your sainted +father. I do not understand such people. This Japanese visitor was +given this room, but this honor I denied him." +</P> + +<P> +"My father's business affairs are greatly tangled, Pablo. I shall have +quite a task to place them in order," Don Miguel informed him, sadly. +</P> + +<P> +"If it is permitted an old servant to appear curious, Don Miguel, how +long must we submit to the presence of these strangers?" +</P> + +<P> +"For the present, Pablo, I am the master here; therefore, these people +are my guests. It has never been the custom with my people to be +discourteous to guests." +</P> + +<P> +"I shall try to remember that," Pablo replied, bitterly. "Forgive me, +Don Miguel, for forgetting it. Perhaps I have not played well my part +as the representative of my master during his absence." +</P> + +<P> +"Do not distress yourself further in the matter, Pablo. What food have +we at the ranch? Is there sufficient with which to enable Carolina to +serve breakfast?" +</P> + +<P> +"To serve it where, Don Miguel?" +</P> + +<P> +"Where but in my home?" +</P> + +<P> +"Blood of the devil!" Pablo slapped his thigh and grinned in the +knowledge that the last of the Farrels, having come home, had decided +to waste no time in assuming his natural position as the master of the +Rancho Palomar. "We have oranges," he began, enumerating each course +of the forthcoming meal on his tobacco-stained fingers. "Then there is +flour in my possession for biscuits, and, two weeks ago, I robbed a +bee-tree; so we have honey. Our coffee is not of the best, but it is +coffee. And we have eggs." +</P> + +<P> +"Any butter, sugar, and cream?" +</P> + +<P> +"Alas, no, Don Miguel!" +</P> + +<P> +"Saddle a horse at once, go down to the mission, and borrow some from +Father Dominic. If he has none, ride over to the Gonzales rancho and +get it. Bacon, also, if they have it. Tell Carolina I will have +breakfast for five at half after eight." +</P> + +<P> +"But this Japanese cook of <I>Señor</I> Parker's, Don Miguel?" +</P> + +<P> +"I am not in a mood to be troubled by trifles tonight, Pablo." +</P> + +<P> +"I understand, Don Miguel. The matter may safely be entrusted to me." +He picked up the tray. "Sweet rest to you, sir, and may our Saviour +grant a quick healing to your bruised heart. Good-night." +</P> + +<P> +"Good-night, Pablo." Farrel rose and laid his hand on the old +retainer's shoulder. "I never bothered to tell you this before, Pablo, +but I want you to know that I do appreciate you and Carolina +tremendously. You've stuck to me and mine, and you'll always have a +home with me." +</P> + +<P> +"Child," Pablo queried, huskily, "must we leave the rancho?" +</P> + +<P> +"I'm afraid we must, Pablo. I shall know more about our plans after I +have talked with Señor Parker." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap10"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +X +</H3> + + +<P> +That night, Miguel Farrel did not sleep in the great bed of his +ancestors. Instead, he lay beneath his grandmother's silk crazy-quilt +and suffered. The shock incident to the discovery of the desperate +straits to which he had been reduced had, seemingly, deprived him of the +power to think coherently. Along toward daylight, however, what with +sheer nervous exhaustion, he fell into a troubled doze from which he was +awakened at seven o'clock by the entrance of Pablo, with a pitcher of hot +water for his shaving. +</P> + +<P> +"Carolina will serve breakfast, Don Miguel," he announced. "The Japanese +cook tried to throw her out of the kitchen; so I have locked him up in +the room where of old I was wont to place vaqueros who desired to settle +their quarrels without interference." +</P> + +<P> +"How about food, Pablo?" +</P> + +<P> +"Unfortunately, Father Dominic had neither sugar nor cream. It appears +such things are looked upon at the mission as luxuries, and the padres +have taken the vow of poverty. He could furnish nothing save half a ham, +which is of Brother Flavio's curing, and very excellent. I have tasted +it before. I was forced to ride to the Gonzales rancho for the cream and +sugar this morning, and have but a few moments ago returned." +</P> + +<P> +Having deposited the pitcher of hot water, Pablo retired and, for several +minutes, Miguel Farrel lay abed, gazing at the row of portraits of +Noriagas and Farrels. His heart was heavy enough still, but the first +benumbing shock of his grief and desperation had passed, and his natural +courage and common sense were rapidly coming to his aid. He told himself +that, with the dawning of the new day, he would no longer afford the +luxury of self-pity, of vain repining for the past. He had to be up and +doing, for a man's-sized task now confronted him. He had approximately +seven months in which to rehabilitate an estate which his forebears had +been three generations in dissipating, and the Gaelic and Celtic blood in +him challenged defeat even in the very moment when, for all he knew to +the contrary, his worldly assets consisted of approximately sixty +dollars, the bonus given him by the government when parting with his +services. +</P> + +<P> +"I'll not give up without a battle," he told his ancestors aloud. +"You've all contributed to my heavy load, but while the pack-straps hold +and I can stand and see, I'll carry it. I'll fight this man Parker up to +the moment he hands the county recorder the commissioner's deed and the +Rancho Palomar has slipped out of my hands forever. But I'll fight fair. +That splendid girl—ah, pooh! Why am I thinking of her?" +</P> + +<P> +Disgusted with himself for having entertained, for a fleeting instant, a +slight sentimental consideration for the daughter of his enemy—for as +such he now regarded this man who planned to colonize the San Gregorio +with Japanese farmers—he got out of bed and under the cold shower-bath +he had installed in the adjoining room years before. It, together with +the tub-bath formerly used by his father, was the only plumbing in the +hacienda, and Farrel was just a little bit proud of it. He shaved, +donned clean linen and an old dressing-gown, and from his closet brought +forth a pair of old tan riding-boots, still in an excellent state of +repair. From his army-kit he produced a boot-brush and a can of tan +polish, and fell to work, finding in the accustomed task some slight +surcease from his troubles. +</P> + +<P> +His boots polished to his satisfaction, he selected from the stock of old +civilian clothing a respectable riding-suit of English whip-cord, +inspected it carefully for spots, and, finding none, donned it. A clean +starched chambray shirt, set off by a black-silk Windsor tie, completed +his attire, with the exception of a soft, wide, flat-brimmed gray-beaver +hat, and stamped him as that which he had once been but was no longer—a +California rancher of taste and means somewhat beyond the average. +</P> + +<P> +It was twenty-five minutes past eight when he concluded his leisurely +toilet; so he stepped out of his room, passed round two sides of the +porched patio, and entered the dining-room. The long dining-table, hewed +by hand from fir logs by the first of the Noriagas, had its rough defects +of manufacture mercifully hidden by a snow-white cloth, and he noted with +satisfaction that places had been set for five persons. He hung his hat +on a wall-peg and waited with his glance on the door. +</P> + +<P> +Promptly at eight-thirty, Carolina, smiling, happy, resplendent in a +clean starched calico dress of variegated colors, stepped outside the +door and rang vigorously a dinner-bell that had called three generations +of Noriagas and an equal number of generations of Farrels to their meals. +As its musical notes echoed through the dewy patio, Murray, the butler, +appeared from the kitchen. At sight of Farrel, he halted, puzzled, but +recognized in him almost instantly the soldier who had so mysteriously +appeared at the house the night before. <I>El Mono</I> was red of face and +obviously controlling with difficulty a cosmic cataclysm. +</P> + +<P> +"Sir," he announced, respectfully, "that Indian of yours has announced +that he will shoot me if I attempt to serve breakfast." +</P> + +<P> +Farrel grinned wanly. +</P> + +<P> +"In that event, Murray," he replied, "if I were you, I should not attempt +to serve breakfast. You might be interested to know that I am now master +here and that, for the present, my own servants will minister to the +appetites of my guests. Thank you for your desire to serve, but, for the +present, you will not be needed here. If you will kindly step into the +kitchen, Carolina will later serve breakfast to you and the maids." +</P> + +<P> +"I'm quite certain I've never heard of anything so extraordinary," Murray +murmured. "Mrs. Parker is not accustomed to being summoned to breakfast +with a bell." +</P> + +<P> +"Indeed? I'm glad you mentioned that, Murray. Perhaps you would be good +enough to oblige me by announcing breakfast to Mr. and Mrs. Parker, Miss +Parker, and their guest, Mr. Okada." +</P> + +<P> +"Thank you, sir," Murray murmured, and departed on his errand. +</P> + +<P> +The first to respond to the summons was Kay. She was resplendent in a +stunning wash-dress and, evidently, was not prepared for the sight of +Farrel standing with his back to the black adobe fireplace. She paused +abruptly and stared at him frankly. He bowed. +</P> + +<P> +"Good-morning, Miss Parker. I trust that, despite the excitement of the +early part of the night, you have enjoyed a very good rest." +</P> + +<P> +"Good-morning, Don Miguel. Yes; I managed rather well with my sleep, all +things considered." +</P> + +<P> +"You mustn't call me 'Don Miguel,'" he reminded her, with a faint smile. +"I am only Don Miguel to the Indians and <I>pelados</I> and a few of my +father's old Spanish friends who are sticklers for etiquette. My father +was one of the last dons in San Marcos County, and the title fitted him +because he belonged to the generation of dons. If you call me, 'Don +Miguel,' I shall feel a little bit alien." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, I agree with you, Mr. Farrel. You are too young and modern for +such an antiquated title. I like 'Don Mike' better." +</P> + +<P> +"There is no further need for that distinguishing appellation," he +reminded her, "since my father's death." +</P> + +<P> +She looked at him for several seconds and said: +</P> + +<P> +"I'm glad to see you've gotten a firm grip on yourself so soon. That +will make it ever so much nicer for everybody concerned. Mother and +father are fearfully embarrassed." +</P> + +<P> +"I shall endeavor to relieve them of their embarrassment the instant I +meet them." +</P> + +<P> +"Here they come now," Kay warned, and glanced at him appealingly. +</P> + +<P> +Her mother entered first, followed by the potato baron, with Parker +bringing up the rear. Mrs. Parker's handsome face was suffused with +confusion, and, from the hesitant manner in which she entered, Farrel +realized she was facing an ordeal. +</P> + +<P> +"Mother, this is Mr. Miguel Farrel," Kay announced. +</P> + +<P> +"You are welcome to my poor house, Mrs. Parker," Farrel informed her, +gravely, as he crossed the room and bent over her hand for a moment, +releasing it to grasp the reluctant hand of her husband. "A double +welcome, sir," he said, addressing Kay's father, who mumbled something in +reply and introduced him to the potato baron, who bowed ceremoniously. +</P> + +<P> +"Won't you please be seated?" Farrel pleaded. He gently steered Kay's +mother to the seat on his right, and tucked her chair in under her, while +Parker performed a similar service for his daughter. With the assurance +of one whose right to do was unquestioned, Farrel took his seat at the +head of the table and reached for the little silver call-bell beside his +plate, while Parker took an unaccustomed seat opposite the potato baron. +</P> + +<P> +"Considering the distressing circumstances under which I arrived," Farrel +observed, addressing himself to Mrs. Parker, and then, with a glance, +including the rest of the company, "I find myself rather happy in the +possession of unexpected company. The situation is delightfully +unique—don't you think so, Mrs. Parker?" +</P> + +<P> +"It isn't the least bit delightful, Mr. Farrel," the lady declared +frankly and forcibly; "but it's dear of you to be so nice about it." +</P> + +<P> +Mr. Parker's momentary embarrassment had passed, and with the feeling +that his silence was a trifle disconcerting, he rallied to meet Miguel +Farrel's attempt at gaiety. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, Mr. Farrel, we find ourselves in a unique position, as you say. +Kay informs me, however, that you are conversant with the circumstances +that have conspired to make us your guests." +</P> + +<P> +"Pray do not mention it. Under the peculiar conditions existing, I quite +realize that you followed the only logical and sensible course." +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. Parker heaved a small sigh of relief and gazed upon Farrel with new +interest. He returned her gaze with one faintly quizzical, whereat, +emboldened, she demanded, +</P> + +<P> +"Well, what do you think of us for a jolly little band of usurpers, Mr. +Farrel?" +</P> + +<P> +"Why, I think I'm going to like you all very much if you'll give me half +a chance." +</P> + +<P> +"I'd give you almost anything rather than be kicked out of this house," +she replied, in her somewhat loud, high-pitched voice. "I love it, and I +think it's almost sinful on your part to have bobbed up so unexpectedly." +</P> + +<P> +"Mother!" Kay cried reproachfully. +</P> + +<P> +"Tut, tut, Kay, dear! When an obnoxious heir is reported dead, he should +have the decency to stay dead, although, now that our particular nuisance +is here, alive and well, I suppose we ought to let bygones be bygones and +be nice to him—provided, of course, he continues to be nice to us. Are +you inclined to declare war, Mr. Farrel?" +</P> + +<P> +"Not until every diplomatic course has been tried and found wanting," he +replied. +</P> + +<P> +Carolina entered, bearing five portions of sliced oranges. +</P> + +<P> +"O Lord, forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass +against us," Mrs. Parker cried. "Where is Murray?" +</P> + +<P> +Farrel glanced down at his oranges and grinned. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm afraid I excused Murray," he confessed. +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. Parker burst into shrill laughter. +</P> + +<P> +"John," she demanded of her husband, "what do you think of this young +man?" +</P> + +<P> +"Pick up the marbles, Mr. Farrel," Parker replied, with poorly assumed +good humor. "You win." +</P> + +<P> +"I think this is a jolly adventure," Kay struck in, quick to note the +advantage of her outspoken mother's course. "Here you have been more +than two months, mother, regarding yourself as the mistress of the Rancho +Palomar, retinting rooms, putting in modern plumbing, and cluttering up +the place with a butler and maids, when—presto!—overnight a stranger +walks in and says kindly, 'Welcome to my poor house!' After which, he +appropriates pa's place at the head of the table, rings in his own cook +and waitress, forces his own food on us, and makes us like it. Young +man, I greatly fear we're going to grow fond of you." +</P> + +<P> +"You had planned to spend the summer here, had you not, Mrs. Parker?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes. John Parker, have you any idea what's going to become of us?" +</P> + +<P> +"We'll go to Santa Barbara and take rooms at a hotel there for the +present," he informed her. +</P> + +<P> +"I loathe hotels," she protested. +</P> + +<P> +"I think I informed you, Mrs. Parker, that you are welcome to my poor +house," Farrel reminded her. "I shall be happy to have you remain here +until I go away. After that, of course, you can continue to stay on +without any invitation from me." +</P> + +<P> +Parker spoke up. +</P> + +<P> +"My dear Mr. Farrel, that is charming of you! Indeed, from all that we +have heard of you, it is exactly the course we might expect you to take. +Nevertheless, we shall not accept of your kindness. Now that you are +here, I see no reason why I should impose the presence of my family and +myself upon your hospitality, even if the court has given me the right to +enter upon this property. I am confident you are competent to manage the +ranch until I am eliminated or come into final possession." +</P> + +<P> +"John, don't be a nut," his wife implored him. "We'll stay here. Yes, +we shall, John. Mr. Farrel has asked us in good faith. You weren't +trying to be polite just to put us at our ease, were you?" she demanded, +turning to Farrel. +</P> + +<P> +"Certainly not, Mrs. Parker. Of course, I shall do my level best to +acquire the legal right to dispossess you before Mr. Parker acquires a +similar right to dispossess me, but, in the interim, I announce an +armistice. All those in favor of the motion will signify by saying +'Aye.'" +</P> + +<P> +"Aye!" cried Kay, and "Aye!" shrilled her mother. +</P> + +<P> +"No!" roared her husband. +</P> + +<P> +"Excess of sound has no weight with me, Mr. Parker," their host +announced. "The 'Ayes' have it, and it is so ordered. I will now submit +a platform for the approval of the delegates. Having established myself +as host and won recognition as such, the following rules and regulations +will govern the convention." +</P> + +<P> +"Hear! Hear!" cried Mrs. Parker, and tapped the table with her spoon. +</P> + +<P> +"The rapid ringing of a bell will be the signal for meals." +</P> + +<P> +"Approved!" cried Kay. +</P> + +<P> +"Second the motion!" shrilled her mother. +</P> + +<P> +"My cook, Carolina, is queen of the kitchen, and Spanish cuisine will +prevail. When you weary of it, serve notice, and your Japanese cook will +be permitted to vary the monotony." +</P> + +<P> +"Great!" Mrs. Parker almost yelled. "Right as a fox!" +</P> + +<P> +"Murray shall serve meals, and———" +</P> + +<P> +Pablo appeared in the door leading to the kitchen and spoke to Farrel in +Spanish. +</P> + +<P> +"Pardon, folks. Pablo has a telegram for me. Bring it here, Pablo." +</P> + +<P> +The master of Palomar excused himself to his guests long enough to read +the telegram, and then continued the announcement of his platform. +</P> + +<P> +"My old battery commander, to whom I had promised Panchito, wires me +that, for his sins, he has been made a major and ordered to the Army of +Occupation on the Rhine. Therefore, he cannot use Panchito, and forbids +me to express the horse to him. Consequently, Miss Parker, Panchito is +<I>almost</I> yours. Consider him your property while you remain my guest." +</P> + +<P> +"You darling Don Miguel Farrel!" +</P> + +<P> +"Exuberant, my dear," her curious mother remarked, dryly, "but, on the +whole, the point is well taken." She turned to Farrel. "How about some +sort of nag for mother?" +</P> + +<P> +"You may ride my father's horse, if that animal is still on the ranch, +Mrs. Parker. He's a beautiful single-footer." He addressed Parker. "We +used to have a big gray gelding that you'd enjoy riding, sir. I'll look +him up for you after breakfast." +</P> + +<P> +"Thank you, Mr. Farrel," Parker replied, flushing slightly, "I've been +riding him already." +</P> + +<P> +"Fine! He needed exercising. I have a brown mare for Mr. Okada, and you +are all invited out to the corral after luncheon to see me bust +Panchito's wild young brother for my own use." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, splendid!" Kay cried, enthusiastically. +</P> + +<P> +"The day starts more auspiciously than I had hoped," her mother declared. +"I really believe the Rancho Palomar is going to develop into a regular +place with you around, Mr. Farrel." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap11"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +XI +</H3> + + +<P> +"I am convinced," said Miguel Farrel, as he followed his guests out of +the dining-room onto the veranda, "that the Parkers' invasion of my +home is something in the nature of a mixed misfortune. I begin to feel +that my cloud has a silver lining." +</P> + +<P> +"Of all the young men I have ever met, you can say the nicest things," +Mrs. Parker declared. "I don't think you mean that last remark the +least bit, but still I'm silly enough to like to hear you say it. Do +sit down here awhile, Mr. Farrel, and tell us all about yourself and +family." +</P> + +<P> +"At the risk of appearing discourteous, Mrs. Parker, I shall have to +ask you to excuse me this morning. I have a living to make. It is now +a quarter past nine, and I should have been on the job at seven." +</P> + +<P> +"But you only got home from the army last night," Kay pleaded. "You +owe yourself a little rest, do you not?" +</P> + +<P> +"Not a minute. I must not owe anything I cannot afford. I have +approximately seven months in which to raise approximately a quarter of +a million dollars. Since I am without assets, I have no credit; +consequently, I must work for that money. From to-day I am Little +Mike, the Hustler." +</P> + +<P> +"What's your program, Mr. Farrel?" Parker inquired, with interest. +</P> + +<P> +"I should be grateful for an interview with you, sir, if you can spare +the time. Later, I shall ride out over the ranch and make an inventory +of the stock. Tomorrow, I shall go in to El Toro, see my father's +attorney, ascertain if father left a will, and, if so, whom he named as +executor. If he died intestate, I shall petition for letters of +administration." +</P> + +<P> +"Come, Kay, dear," Mrs. Parker announced; "heavy business-man stuff! I +can't bear it! Will you take a walk with us, Mr. Okada?" +</P> + +<P> +"Very much pleased," the potato baron replied, and flashed his fine +teeth in a fatuous grin. +</P> + +<P> +Farrel smiled his thanks as the good lady moved off with her convoy. +Parker indicated a chair and proffered a cigar. +</P> + +<P> +"Now then, Mr. Farrel, I am quite at your service." +</P> + +<P> +Miguel Farrel lighted his cigar and thoughtfully tossed the burnt match +into a bed of pansies. Evidently, he was formulating his queries. +</P> + +<P> +"What was the exact sum for which the mortgage on this ranch was +foreclosed, Mr. Parker?" +</P> + +<P> +"Two hundred and eighty-three thousand, nine hundred and forty-one +dollars, and eight cents, Mr. Farrel." +</P> + +<P> +"A sizable wad. Mortgage covered the entire ranch?" +</P> + +<P> +Parker nodded. +</P> + +<P> +"When you secured control of the First National Bank of El Toro, you +found that old mortgage carried in its list of assets. You also +discovered that it had been renewed several times, each time for a +larger sum, from which you deduced that the prospects for the ultimate +payment of the mortgage were nebulous and distant. Your hypothesis was +correct. The Farrels never did to-day a task that could be deferred +until to-morrow. Well, you went out and looked over the security for +that mortgage. You found it to be ample—about three to one, as a very +conservative appraisal. You discovered that all of the stockholders in +the First National were old friends of my father and extremely +reluctant to foreclose on him. As a newcomer; you preferred not to +antagonize your associates by forcing the issue upon them, so you +waited until the annual election of stockholders, when you elected your +own Board of Directors. Then this Board of Directors sold you the +mortgage, and you promptly foreclosed it. The shock of this unexpected +move was a severe one on my father; the erroneous report of my death +killed him, and here you are, where you have every legal right in the +world to be. We were never entitled to pity, never entitled to the +half-century of courtesy and consideration we received from the bank. +We met the fate that is bound to overtake impractical dreamers and +non-hustlers in this generation. The Mission Indian disappeared before +the onslaught of the earlier Californians, and the old-time +Californians have had to take a back seat before the onslaught of the +Go-get-'em boys from the Middle West and the East. Presently they, +too, will disappear before the hordes of Japanese that are invading our +state. Perhaps that is progress—the survival of the fittest. <I>Quién +sabe</I>?" +</P> + +<P> +He paused and smoked contemplatively. Parker cast a sidelong glance of +curiosity at him, but said nothing, by his silence giving assent to all +that the younger man had said. +</P> + +<P> +"I suppose you wanted the Rancho Palomar," Miguel Farrel suggested, +presently. "I dare say your purchase of this mortgage was not the mere +outgrowth of an altruistic desire to relieve the First National Bank of +El Toro of an annoyance and a burden." +</P> + +<P> +"I think I admire your direct way of speaking, even if I hardly relish +it," Parker answered, good-humoredly. "Yes; I wanted the ranch. I +realized I could do things with it that nobody else in this county +could do or would even think of doing." +</P> + +<P> +"Perhaps you are right. For the sake of argument, I will admit that +you are right. Now then, to business. This ranch is worth a million +dollars, and at the close of the exemption period your claim against it +will probably amount to approximately three hundred thousand dollars, +principal and interest. If I can induce somebody to loan me three +hundred thousand dollars wherewith to redeem this property, I can get +the ranch back." +</P> + +<P> +"Naturally." +</P> + +<P> +"Not much use getting it back, however, unless I can raise another +hundred thousand to restock it with pure-bred or good-grade Herefords +and purchase modern equipment to operate it." Parker nodded +approvingly. "Otherwise," Farrel continued, "the interest would eat me +alive, and in a few years I'd be back where I started." +</P> + +<P> +"Do you think you can borrow four hundred thousand dollars in San +Marcos County, Mr. Farrel?" +</P> + +<P> +"No, sir. No private loan of that magnitude can be floated in this +country. You control the only bank in the county that can even +consider it—and you'll not consider it." +</P> + +<P> +"Hardly." +</P> + +<P> +"Added to which handicap, I have no additional security to offer in the +shape of previous reputation for ability and industry. I am the last +of a long line of indolent, care-free spendthrifts." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes; that is unfortunately true," Parker assented, gravely. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, not so unfortunate as it is embarrassing and inconvenient. We +have always enjoyed life to the fullest, and, for that, only a fool +would have regret. Would you be willing to file a satisfaction of that +old mortgage and give me a new loan for five years for the amount now +due on the property? I could induce one of the big packing companies +to stake me to the cattle. All I would have to provide would be the +range, and satisfy them that I am honest and know my business. And I +can do that. Such an arrangement would give me time to negotiate a +sale of part of the ranch and pay up your mortgage." +</P> + +<P> +"I am afraid that my present plans preclude consideration of that +suggestion," the banker replied, kindly, but none the less forcibly. +</P> + +<P> +"I didn't think you would, but I thought I'd ask. As a general rule, +it pays to try anything once when a fellow is in as desperate case as I +am. My only hope, then, is that I may be able to sell the Farrel +equity in the ranch prior to the twenty-second day of November." +</P> + +<P> +"That would seem to be your best course, Mr. Farrel." +</P> + +<P> +"When does the redemption period expire?" +</P> + +<P> +Parker squirmed slightly. +</P> + +<P> +"That is a difficult question to answer, Mr. Farrel. It seems your +father was something of a lawyer———" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes; he graduated in law. Why, nobody ever knew, for he never had the +slightest intention of practising it. I believe it must have been +because my grandfather, Michael Joseph I, had an idea that, since his +son was a gentleman, he ought to have a college degree and the right to +follow some genteel profession in case of disaster." +</P> + +<P> +"Your father evidently kept abreast of the law," Parker laughed. +"Before entering suit for foreclosure, I notified him by registered +mail that the mortgage would not be renewed and made formal demand upon +him for payment in full. When he received the notice from the El Toro +postmaster to call for that registered letter, he must have suspected +its contents, for he immediately deeded the ranch to you and then +called for the registered letter." +</P> + +<P> +Farrel began to chuckle. +</P> + +<P> +"Good old dad!" he cried. "Put over a dirty Irish trick on you to gain +time!" +</P> + +<P> +"He did. I do not blame him for it. I would have done the same thing +myself under the same circumstances." And Parker had the grace to join +in the laugh. "When I filed suit for foreclosure," he continued, "he +appeared in court and testified that the property belonged to his son, +who was in the military service, in consequence of which the suit for +foreclosure could not be pressed until after said son's discharge from +the service." +</P> + +<P> +"All praise to the power of the war-time moratoriums," Farrel declared. +"I suppose you re-entered the suit as soon as the report of my death +reached you." +</P> + +<P> +Parker chuckled. +</P> + +<P> +"I did, Mr. Farrel, and secured a judgment. Then I took possession." +</P> + +<P> +"Aren't you the picture of bad luck? Just when everything is shaping +up beautifully for you, I appear in the flesh as exhibit A in the +contention that your second judgment will now have to be set aside, +because, at the time it was entered, it conflicted with the provisions +of that blessed moratorium." Don Miguel smiled mirthlessly. +</P> + +<P> +"There's luck in odd numbers," Parker retorted, dryly. "The next time +I shall make that judgment stick." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, at any rate, all these false starts help me out wonderfully," +Don Miguel reminded him. "As matters stand this morning, the mortgage +hasn't been foreclosed at all; consequently, you are really and truly +my guests and doubly welcome to my poor house." He rose and stretched +himself, gazing down the while at Parker, who regarded him quizzically. +"Thank you for the interview, Mr. Parker. I imagine we've had our +first and last business discussion. When you are ready to enter your +third suit for foreclosure, I'll drop round to your attorney's office, +accept service of the summons, appear in court, and confess judgment." +Fell a silence. Then, "Do you enjoy the study of people, sir?" Don +Miguel demanded, apropos of nothing. +</P> + +<P> +"Not particularly, Mr. Farrel. Of course, I try to know the man I'm +doing business with, and I study him accordingly, but that is all." +</P> + +<P> +"I have not made myself explicit," his host replied. "The racial +impulses which I observed cropping out in my father—first Irish, then +Spanish—and a similar observance of the raised impulses of the peons +of this country, all of whom are Indian, with a faint admixture of +Spanish blood—always interested me. I agree with Pope that 'the +proper study of mankind is man.' I find it most interesting." +</P> + +<P> +"For instance?" Parker queried. He had a feeling that in any +conversation other than business which he might indulge in with this +young man he would speedily find himself, as it were, in deep water +close to the shore. +</P> + +<P> +"I was thinking of my father. In looking through his effects last +night, I came across indubitable evidence of his Celtic blood. +Following the futile pursuit of an enemy for a quarter of a century, he +died and left the unfinished job to me. Had he been all Spanish, he +would have wearied of the pursuit a decade ago." +</P> + +<P> +"I think every race has some definite characteristics necessary to the +unity of that race," Parker replied, with interest. "Hate makes the +Irish cohesive; pride or arrogance prevents the sun from setting on +British territory; a passionate devotion to the soil has solidified the +French republic in all its wars, while a blind submission to an +overlord made Germany invincible in peace and terrible in war." +</P> + +<P> +"I wonder what spiritual binder holds the people of the United States +together, Mr. Parker?" Don Miguel queried naively. +</P> + +<P> +"Love of country, devotion to the ideals of liberty and democracy," +Parker replied promptly, just as his daughter joined them. +</P> + +<P> +Farrel rose and surrendered to her his chair, then seated himself on +the edge of the porch with his legs dangling over into a flower-bed. +His face was grave, but in his black eyes there lurked the glint of +polite contempt. +</P> + +<P> +"Did you hear the question and the answer, Miss Parker?" he queried. +</P> + +<P> +She nodded brightly. +</P> + +<P> +"Do you agree with your father's premise?" he pursued. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, I do, Don Mike." +</P> + +<P> +"I do not. The mucilage in our body politic is the press-agent, the +advertising specialist, and astute propagandist. I wonder if you know +that, when we declared war against Germany, the reason was not to make +the world safe for democracy, for there are only two real reasons why +wars are fought. One is greed and the other self-protection. Thank +God, we have never been greedy or jealous of the prosperity of a +neighbor. National aggrandizement is not one of our ambitions." +</P> + +<P> +Kay stared at him in frank amazement. +</P> + +<P> +"Then you mean that we entered the late war purely as a protective +measure?" +</P> + +<P> +"That's why I enlisted. As an American citizen, I was unutterably +weary of having our hand crowded and our elbow joggled. I saw very +clearly that, unless we interfered, Germany was going to dominate the +world, which would make it very uncomfortable and expensive for us. I +repeat that for the protection of our comfort and our bank-roll we +declared war, and anybody who tells you otherwise isn't doing his own +thinking, he isn't honest with himself, and he's the sort of citizen +who is letting the country go to the dogs because he refuses to take an +intelligent interest in its affairs." +</P> + +<P> +"What a perfectly amazing speech from an ex-soldier!" Kay protested. +</P> + +<P> +He smiled his sad, prescient smile. +</P> + +<P> +"Soldiers deal with events, not theories. They learn to call a spade a +spade, Miss Parker. I repeat: It wasn't a war to make the world safe +for democracy. That phrase was just a slogan in a business +campaign—the selling of stock in a military enterprise to apathetic +Americans. We had to fight or be overrun; when we realized that, we +fought. Are not the present antics of the Supreme Council in Paris +sufficient proof that saving democracy was just another shibboleth? Is +not a ghastly war to be followed by a ghastly peace? The press-agents +and orators popularized the war with the unthinking and the hesitant, +which is proof enough to me that we lack national unity and a definite +national policy. We're a lot of sublimated jackasses, sacrificing our +country to ideals that are worn at elbow and down at heel. 'Other +times, other customs.' But we go calmly and stupidly onward, hugging +our foolish shibboleths to our hearts, hiding behind them, refusing to +do to-day that which we can put off until to-morrow. That is truly an +Anglo-Saxon trait. In matters of secondary importance, we yield a +ready acquiescence which emboldens our enemies to insist upon +acquiescence in matters of primary importance. And quite frequently +they succeed. I tell you the Anglo-Saxon peoples are the only ones +under heaven that possess a national conscience, and because they +possess it, they are generous enough to assume that other races are +similarly endowed." +</P> + +<P> +"I believe," Parker stuck in, as Don Miguel ceased from his passionate +denunciation, "that all this is leading quite naturally to a discussion +of Japanese emigration." +</P> + +<P> +"I admit that the sight of Mr. Okada over in the corner of the patio, +examining with interest the only sweet-lime tree in North America, +inspired my outburst," Farrel answered smilingly. +</P> + +<P> +"You speak of our national shibboleths, Don Mike Farrel," Kay reminded +him. "If you please, what might they be?" +</P> + +<P> +"You will recognize them instantly, Miss Parker. Let us start with our +Declaration of Independence: 'All men are created equal.' Ah, if the +framers of that great document had only written, 'All men are created +theoretically equal!' For all men are not morally, intellectually, or +commercially equal: For instance, Pablo is equal with me before the +law, although I hazard the guess that if he and I should commit a +murder, Pablo would be hanged and I would be sentenced to life +imprisonment; eventually, I might be pardoned or paroled. Are you +willing to admit that Pablo Artelan is not my equal?" he challenged +suddenly. +</P> + +<P> +"Certainly!" Kay and her father both cried in unison. +</P> + +<P> +"Very well. Is Mr. Okada my equal?" +</P> + +<P> +"He is Pablo's superior," Parker felt impelled to declare. +</P> + +<P> +"He is not your equal," Kay declared firmly. "Dad, you're begging the +question." +</P> + +<P> +"We-ll, no," he assented, "Not from the Anglo-Saxon point of view. He +is, however, from the point of view of his own nationals." +</P> + +<P> +"Two parallel lines continued into infinity will never meet, Mr. +Parker. I am a believer in Asia for Asiatics, and, in Japan, I am +willing to accord a Jap equality with me. In my own country, however, +I would deny him citizenship, by any right whatsoever, even by birth, I +would deny him the right to lease or own land for agricultural or other +purposes, although I would accord him office and warehouse space to +carry on legitimate commerce. The Jap does that for us and no more, +despite his assertions to the contrary. I would deny the right of +emigration to this country of all Japanese, with certain exceptions +necessary to friendly intercourse between the two countries; I would +deny him the privilege of economic competition and marriage with our +women. When a member of the great Nordic race fuses with a member of a +pigmented race, both parties to the union violate a natural law. Pablo +is a splendid example of mongrelization." +</P> + +<P> +"You are forgetting the shibboleths," Kay ventured to remind him. +</P> + +<P> +"No; I am merely explaining their detrimental effect upon our +development. The Japanese are an exceedingly clever and resourceful +race. Brilliant psychologists and astute diplomatists, they have taken +advantage of our pet shibboleth, to the effect that all men are equal. +Unfortunately, we propounded this monstrous and half-baked ideal to the +world, and a sense of national vanity discourages us from repudiating +it, although we really ought to. And as I remarked before, we possess +an alert national conscience in international affairs, while the Jap +possesses none except in certain instances where it is obvious that +honesty is the best policy. I think I am justified, however, in +stating that, upon the whole, Japan has no national conscience in +international affairs. Her brutal exploitation of China and her +merciless and bloody conquest of Korea impel that point of view from an +Anglo-Saxon. When, therefore, the Tokyo government says, in effect, to +us: 'For one hundred and forty-four years you have proclaimed to the +world that all men are equal. Very well. Accept us. We are a +world-power. We are on a basis of equality with you,' and we lack the +courage to repudiate this pernicious principle, we have tacitly +admitted their equality. That is, the country in general has, because +it knows nothing of the Japanese race—at least not enough for +moderately practical understanding of the biological and economic +issues involved. Indeed, for a long time, we Californians dwelt in the +same fool's paradise as the remainder of the states. Finally, members +of the Japanese race became so numerous and aggressive here that we +couldn't help noticing them. Then we began to study them, and now, +what we have learned amazes and frightens us, and we want the sister +states to know all that we have learned, in order that they may +cooperate with us. But, still, the Jap has us <I>tiron</I> in other ways." +</P> + +<P> +"Has us what?" Parker interrupted. +</P> + +<P> +"<I>Tiron</I>. Spanish slang. I mean he has us where the hair is short; +we're hobbled." +</P> + +<P> +"How?" Kay demanded. +</P> + +<P> +His bright smile was triumphant. +</P> + +<P> +"By shibboleths, of course. My friends, we're a race of sentimental +idiots, and the Japanese know this and capitalize it. We have +promulgated other fool shibboleths which we are too proud or too stupid +to repudiate. 'America, the refuge for all the oppressed of the +earth!' Ever hear that perfectly damnable shibboleth shouted by a +Fourth of July orator? 'America, the hope of the world!' What kind of +hope? Hope of freedom, social and political equality, equality of +opportunity? Nonsense! Hope of more money, shorter hours, and license +misnamed liberty; and when that hope has been fulfilled, back they go +to the countries that denied them all that we give. How many of them +feel, when they land at Ellis Island, that the ground whereon they +tread is holy, sanctified by the blood and tears of a handful of great, +brave souls who really had an ideal and died for it. Mighty few of the +cattle realize what that hope is, even in the second generation." +</P> + +<P> +"I fear," quoth Parker, "that your army experience has embittered you." +</P> + +<P> +"On the contrary, it has broadened and developed me. It has been a +liberal education, and it has strengthened my love for my country." +</P> + +<P> +"Continue with the shibboleths, Don Mike," Kay pleaded. Her big, brown +eyes were alert with interest now. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, when Israel Zangwill coined that phrase: 'The Melting-Pot,' the +title to his play caught the popular fancy of a shibboleth-crazy +nation, and provided pap for the fanciful, for the theorists, for the +flabby idealists and doctrinaires. If I melt lead and iron and copper +and silver and gold in the same pot, I get a bastard metal, do I not? +It is not, as a fused product, worth a tinker's hoot. Why, even +Zangwill is not an advocate of the melting-pot. He is a Jew, proud of +it, and extremely solicitous for the welfare of the Jewish race. He is +a Zionist—a leader of the movement to crowd the Arabs out of Palestine +and repopulate that country with Jews. He feels that the Jews have an +ancient and indisputable right to Palestine, although, parenthetically +speaking, I do not believe that any smart Jew who ever escaped from +Palestine wants to go back. I wouldn't swap the Rancho Palomar for the +whole country." +</P> + +<P> +Kay and her father laughed at his earnest yet whimsical tirade. Don +Miguel continued: +</P> + +<P> +"Then we have that asinine chatter about 'America, the land of fair +play.' In theory—yes. In actual practice—not always. You didn't +accumulate your present assets, Mr. Parker, without taking an +occasional chance on side-tracking equity when you thought you could +beat the case. But the Jap reminds us of our reputation for fair play, +and smilingly asks us if we are going to prejudice that reputation by +discriminating unjustly against him?" +</P> + +<P> +"It appears," the girl suggested, "that all these ancient national +brags come home, like curses, to roost." +</P> + +<P> +"Indeed they do, Miss Parker! But to get on with our shibboleths. We +hear a great deal of twaddle about the law of the survival of the +fittest. I'm willing to abide by such a natural law, provided the +competition is confined to mine own people—and I'm one of those chaps, +who, to date, has failed to survive. But I cannot see any common sense +in opening the lists to Orientals. We Californians know we cannot win +in competition with them." He paused and glanced at Kay. "Does all +this harangue bore you, Miss Parker?" +</P> + +<P> +"Not at all. Are there any more shibboleths?" +</P> + +<P> +"I haven't begun to enumerate them. Take, for instance, that old +pacifist gag, that Utopian dream that is crystallized in the words: +'The road to universal peace.' All the long years when we were not +bothered by wars or rumors of wars, other nations were whittling each +other to pieces. And these agonized neighbors, longing, with a great +longing, for world-peace, looked to the United States as the only +logical country in which a great cure-all for wars might reasonably be +expected to germinate. So their propagandists came to our shores and +started societies looking toward the establishment of brotherly love, +and thus was born the shibboleth of universal peace, with Uncle Sam +heading the parade like an old bell-mare in a pack train. What these +peace-patriots want is peace at any price, although they do not +advertise the fact. We proclaim to the world that we are a Christian +nation. <I>Ergo</I>, we must avoid trouble. The avoidance of trouble is +the policy of procrastinators, the vacillating, and the weak. For one +cannot avoid real trouble. It simply will not be avoided; +consequently, it might as well be met and settled for all time." +</P> + +<P> +"But surely," Parker remarked, "California should subordinate herself +to the wishes of the majority." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, she should," he admitted doggedly, "and she has in the past. I +think that was before California herself really knew that Oriental +emigration was not solely a California problem but a national problem +of the utmost importance. Indeed, it is international. Of course, in +view of the fact that we Californians are already on the firing-line, +necessarily it follows that we must make some noise and, incidentally, +glean some real first-hand knowledge of this so-called problem. I +think that when our fellow citizens know what we are fighting, they +will sympathize with us and promptly dedicate the United States to the +unfaltering principle that ours is a white man's country, that the +heritage we have won from the wilderness shall be held inviolate for +Nordic posterity and none other." +</P> + +<P> +"Nevertheless, despite your prejudice against the race, you are bound +to admire the Japanese—their manners, thrift, industry, and +cleanliness." Parker was employing one of the old stock protests, and +Don Miguel knew it. +</P> + +<P> +"I do not admire their manners, but I do admire their thrift, industry, +and cleanliness. Their manners are abominable. Their excessive +courtesy is neither instinctive nor genuine; it is camouflage for a +ruthless, greedy, selfish, calculating nature. I have met many +Japanese, but never one with nobility or generosity of soul. They are +disciples of the principles of expediency. If a mutual agreement works +out to their satisfaction, well and good. If it does not, they present +a humble and saddened mien. 'So sorry. I zink you no understand me. +I don't mean zat.' And their peculiar Oriental psychology leads them +to believe they can get away with that sort of thing with the +straight-thinking Anglo-Saxon. They have no code of sportsmanship; +they are irritable and quarrelsome, and their contractual relations are +incompatible with those of the Anglo-Saxon. They are not truthful. +Individually and collectively, they are past masters of evasion and +deceit, and therefore they are the greatest diplomatists in the world, +I verily believe. They are wonderfully shrewd, and they have sense +enough to keep their heads when other men are losing theirs. They are +patient; they plan craftily and execute carefully and ruthlessly. +Would you care to graft their idea of industry on the white race, Mr. +Parker?" +</P> + +<P> +"I would," Parker declared, firmly. "It is getting to be the fashion +nowadays for white men to do as little work as possible, and half do +that." +</P> + +<P> +"I would not care to see my wife or my mother or my sister laboring +twelve to sixteen hours a day as Japanese force their women to labor. +I would not care to contemplate the future mothers of our race drawn +from the ranks of twisted, stunted, broken-down, and prematurely aged +women. Did you ever see a bent Japanese girl of twenty waddling in +from a day of labor in a field? To emulate Japanese industry, with its +peonage, its horrible, unsanitary factory conditions, its hopelessness, +would be to thrust woman's hard-won sphere in modern civilization back +to where it stood at the dawn of the Christian era. Do you know, Miss +Parker, that love never enters into consideration when a Japanese +contemplates marriage? His sole purpose in acquiring a mate is to +beget children, to scatter the seed of Yamato over the world, for that +is a religious duty. A Jap never kisses his wife or shows her any +evidences of affection. She is a chattel, and if anybody should, by +chance, discover him kissing his wife, he would be frightfully +mortified." +</P> + +<P> +"What of their religious views, Don Mike?" +</P> + +<P> +"If Japan can be said to have an official religion, it is Shintoism, +not Buddhism, as so many Occidental people believe. Shintoism is +ancestor-worship, and ascribes divinity to the emperor. They believe +he is a direct descendant of the sun-god, Yamato." +</P> + +<P> +"Why, they're a heathen nation!" Kay's tones were indicative of +amazement. +</P> + +<P> +Farrel smiled his tolerant smile. +</P> + +<P> +"I believe, Miss Parker, that any people who will get down on all fours +to worship the picture of their emperor and, at this period of the +world's progress, ascribe to a mere human being the attributes of +divinity, are certainly deficient in common sense, if not in +civilization. However, for the purpose of insuring the realization of +the Japanese national aspirations, Shintoism is a need vital to the +race. Without it, they could never agree among themselves for they are +naturally quarrelsome, suspicious and irritable. However, by +subordinating everything to the state via this religious channel, there +has been developed a national unity that has never existed with any +other race. The power of cohesion of this people is marvelous, and +will enable it, in days to come, to accomplish much for the race. For +that reason alone, our very lack of cohesion renders the aspirations of +Japan comparatively easy of fulfilment unless we wake up and attend to +business." +</P> + +<P> +"How do you know all this, Mr. Farrel?" Parker demanded incredulously. +</P> + +<P> +"I have read translations from editorials in Japanese newspapers both +in Japan and California; I have read translations of the speeches of +eminent Japanese statesmen; I have read translations from Japanese +official or semi-official magazines, and I have read translations from +patriotic Japanese novels. I know what I am talking about. The +Japanese race holds firmly to the belief that it is the greatest race +on the face of the globe, that its religion, Shintoism, is the one true +faith, that it behooves it to carry this faith to the benighted of +other lands and, if said benighted do not readily accept Shintoism, to +force its blessings upon them willy-nilly. They believe that they know +what is good for the world; they believe that the resources of the +world were put here to be exploited by the people of the world, +regardless of color, creed, or geographical limitation. They feel that +they have as much right in North America as we have, and they purpose +over-running us and making our country Japanese territory. And it was +your purpose to aid in the consummation of this monstrous ambition," he +charged bluntly. +</P> + +<P> +"At least," Parker defended, "they are a more wholesome people than +southern Europeans. And they are not Mongolians." +</P> + +<P> +Farrel's eyebrows arched. +</P> + +<P> +"You have been reading Japanese propaganda," he replied. "Of course +they are Mongolians. Everybody who has reached the age of reason knows +that. One does not have to be a biologist to know that they are +Mongolians. Indeed, the only people who deny it are the Japanese, and +they do not believe it. As for southern Europeans, have you not +observed that nearly all of them possess brachycephalic skulls, +indicating the influence upon them of Mongolian invasions thousands of +years ago and supplying, perhaps, a very substantial argument that, if +we find the faintly Mongoloid type of emigrant repugnant to us, we can +never expect to assimilate the pure-bred Mongol." +</P> + +<P> +"What do you mean, 'brachycephalic'?" Parker queried, uneasily. +</P> + +<P> +"They belong to the race of round heads. Didn't you know that +ethnologists grub round in ancient cemeteries and tombs and trace the +evolution and wanderings of tribes of men by the skulls they find +there?" +</P> + +<P> +"I did not." +</P> + +<P> +Kay commenced to giggle at her father's confusion. The latter had +suddenly, as she realized, made the surprising discovery that in this +calm son of the San Gregorio he had stumbled upon a student, to attempt +to break a conversational lance with whom must end in disaster. His +daughter's mirth brought him to a realization of the sorry figure he +would present in argument. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, my dear, what are you laughing at?" he demanded, a trifle +austerely. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm laughing at you. You told me yesterday you were loaded for these +Californians and could flatten their anti-Japanese arguments in a +jiffy." +</P> + +<P> +"Perhaps I am loaded still. Remember, Kay, Mr. Farrel has done all of +the talking and we have been attentive listeners. Wait until I have +had my innings." +</P> + +<P> +"By the way, Mr. Parker," Farrel asked, "who loaded you up with +pro-Japanese arguments?" +</P> + +<P> +Parker flushed and was plainly ill at ease. Farrel turned to Kay. +</P> + +<P> +"I do not know yet where you folks came from, but I'll make a bet that +I can guess—in one guess." +</P> + +<P> +"What will you bet, my erudite friend?" the girl bantered. +</P> + +<P> +"I'll bet you Panchito against a box of fifty of the kind of cigars +your father smokes." +</P> + +<P> +"Taken. Where do we hail from, Don Mike?" +</P> + +<P> +"From New York city." +</P> + +<P> +"Dad, send Mr. Farrel a box of cigars." +</P> + +<P> +"Now, I'll make you another bet. I'll stake Panchito against another +box of the same cigars that your father is a member of the Japan +Society, of New York city." +</P> + +<P> +"Send Mr. Farrel another box of cigars, popsy-wops. Don Mike, how +<I>did</I> you guess it?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, all the real plutocrats in New York have been sold memberships in +that instrument of propaganda by the wily sons of Nippon. The Japan +Society is supposed to be a vehicle for establishing friendlier +commercial and social relations between the United States and Japan. +The society gives wonderful banquets and yammers away about the +Brotherhood of Man and sends out pro-Japanese propaganda. Really, it's +a wonderful institution, Miss Parker. The millionaire white men of New +York finance the society, and the Japs run it. It was some shrewd +Japanese member of the Japan Society who sent you to Okada on this +land-deal, was it not, Mr. Parker?" +</P> + +<P> +"You're too good a guesser for comfort," the latter parried. "I'm +going to write some letters. I'm motoring in to El Toro this +afternoon, and I'll want to mail them." +</P> + +<P> +"'Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof'," Don Miguel assured him +lightly. "Whenever you feel the urge for further information about +yourself and your Japanese friends, I am at your service. I expect to +prove to you in about three lessons that you have unwittingly permitted +yourself to develop into a very poor citizen, even if you did load up +with Liberty Bonds and deliver four-minute speeches during all of the +loan drives." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, I'm as good as the average American, despite what you say," +retorted the banker, good-naturedly, as he left them. +</P> + +<P> +The master of Palomar gazed after the retreating figure of his guest. +In his glance there was curiosity, pain, and resignation. He continued +to stare at the door through which Parker had disappeared, until roused +from his reverie by Kay's voice. +</P> + +<P> +"The average American doesn't impress you greatly, does he, Don Mike?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, I'm not one of that supercilious breed of Americans which toadies +to an alleged European culture by finding fault with his own people," +he hastened to assure her. "What distresses me is the knowledge that +we are a very moral nation, that we have never subjugated weaker +peoples, that we have never coveted our neighbor's goods, that we can +outthink and outwork and outgame and outinvent every nation under +heaven, and yet haven't brains enough to do our own thinking in +world-affairs. It is discouraging to contemplate the smug complacency, +whether it be due to ignorance or apathy, which permits aliens to +reside in our midst and set up agencies for our destruction and their +benefit. If I——— Why, you're in riding-costume, aren't you?" +</P> + +<P> +"You will never be popular with women if you do not mend your ways," +she informed him, with a little grimace of disapproval. "Do you not +know that women loathe non-observing men?" +</P> + +<P> +"So do I. Stodgy devils! Sooner or later, the fool-killer gets them +all. Please do not judge me to-day, Miss Parker. Perhaps, after a +while, I may be more discerning. By Jupiter, those very becoming +riding-togs will create no end of comment among the natives!" +</P> + +<P> +"You said Panchito was to be mine while I am your guest, Don Mike." +</P> + +<P> +"I meant it." +</P> + +<P> +"I do not relish the easy manner in which you risk parting with him. +The idea of betting that wonder-horse against a box of filthy cigars!" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, I wasn't risking him," he retorted, dryly. "However, before you +ride Panchito, I'll put him through his paces. He hasn't been ridden +for three or four months, I dare say, and when he feels particularly +good, he carries on just a little." +</P> + +<P> +"If he's sober-minded, may I ride him to-day?" +</P> + +<P> +"We shall quarrel if you insist upon treating yourself as company. My +home and all I possess are here for your happiness. If your mother and +father do not object———" +</P> + +<P> +"My father doesn't bother himself opposing my wishes, and mother—by +the way, you've made a perfectly tremendous hit with mother. She told +me I could go riding with you." +</P> + +<P> +He blushed boyishly at this vote of confidence. Kay noted the blush, +and liked him all the better for it. +</P> + +<P> +"Very well," he answered. "We'll ride down to the mission first. I +must pay my respects to my friends there—didn't bother to look in on +them last night, you know. Then we will ride over to the Sepulvida +ranch for luncheon. I want you to know Anita Sepulvida. She's a very +lovely girl and a good pal of mine. You'll like her." +</P> + +<P> +"Let's go," she suggested, "while mother is still convoying Mr. Okada. +He is still interested in that sweet-lime tree. By the way," she +continued, as they rose and walked down the porch together, "I have +never heard of a sweet-lime before." +</P> + +<P> +"It's the only one of its kind in this country, Miss Parker, and it is +very old. Just before it came into bearing for the first time, my +grandmother, while walking along the porch with a pan of sugar in her +hands, stubbed her toe and fell off the porch, spilling her pan of +sugar at the base of the tree. The result of this accident is +noticeable in the fruit to this very day." +</P> + +<P> +She glanced up at him suspiciously, but not even the shadow of a smile +hovered on his grave features. He opened the rear gate for her and +they passed out into the compound. +</P> + +<P> +"That open fireplace in the adobe wall under the shed yonder was where +the cowboys used to sit and dry themselves after a rainy day on the +range," he informed her. "In fact, this compound was reserved for the +help. Here they held their bailies in the old days." +</P> + +<P> +"What is that little building yonder—that lean-to against the main +adobe wall?" Kay demanded. +</P> + +<P> +"That was the settlement-room. You must know that the possessors of +dark blood seldom settle a dispute by argument, Miss Parker. In days +gone by, whenever a couple of peons quarreled (and they quarreled +frequently), the majordomo, or foreman of the ranch, would cause these +men to be stripped naked and placed in this room to settle their row +with nature's weapons. When honor was satisfied, the victor came to +this grating and announced it. Not infrequently, peons have emerged +from this room minus an ear or a nose, but, as a general thing, this +method of settlement was to be preferred to knife or pistol." +</P> + +<P> +Farrel tossed an empty box against the door and invited the girl to +climb up on it and peer into the room. She did so. Instantly a +ferocious yell resounded from the semi-darkness within. +</P> + +<P> +"Good gracious! Is that a ghost?" Kay cried, and leaped to the ground. +</P> + +<P> +"No; confound it!" Farrel growled. "It's your Japanese cook. Pablo +locked him in there this morning, in order that Carolina might have a +clear field for her culinary art. Pablo!" +</P> + +<P> +His cry brought an answering hail from Pablo, over at the barn, and +presently the old majordomo entered the compound. Farrel spoke sternly +to him in Spanish, and, with a shrug of indifference, Pablo unlocked +the door of the settlement-room and the Japanese cook bounded out. He +was inarticulate with frenzy, and disappeared through the gate of the +compound with an alacrity comparable only to that of a tin-canned dog. +</P> + +<P> +"I knew he had been placed here temporarily," Don Miguel confessed, +"but I did think Pablo would have sense enough to let him out when +breakfast was over. I'm sorry." +</P> + +<P> +"I'm not. I think that incident is the funniest I have ever seen," the +girl laughed. "Poor outraged fellow!" +</P> + +<P> +"Well, if you think it's funny, so do I. Any sorrow I felt at your +cook's incarceration was due to my apprehension as to your feelings, +not his." +</P> + +<P> +"What a fearful rage he is in, Don Mike!" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, well, he can help himself to the fruit of our famous lime-tree and +get sweet again. Pablo, you russet scoundrel, no more rough stuff if +you know what's good for you. Where is Panchito?" +</P> + +<P> +"I leave those horse loose in the pasture," Pablo replied, a whit +abashed. "I like for see if those horse he got some brains like before +you go ride heem. For long time Panchito don' hear hees boss call +heem. Mebbeso he forget—no?" +</P> + +<P> +"We shall see, Pablo." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap12"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +XII +</H3> + + +<P> +They walked out to the barn. In a little green field in the +oak-studded valley below, a dozen horses were feeding. Farrel whistled +shrilly. Instantly, one of the horses raised his head and listened. +Again Farrel whistled, and a neigh answered him as Panchito broke from +the herd and came galloping up the slope. When his master whistled +again, the gallop developed into a furious burst of speed; whereat +Farrel slipped inside the barn and shut the door, while round and round +the barn Panchito galloped, seeking the lost master. +</P> + +<P> +Suddenly Don Miguel emerged and, with little affectionate nickerings, +the beautiful animal trotted up to him, ran his head over the master's +shoulder, and rubbed his sleek cheek against the man's. Farrel nuzzled +him and rubbed him lovingly between the ears before producing a lump of +sugar. Upon command, Panchito squatted on his hind quarters like a dog +and held his head out stiffly. Upon his nose Farrel balanced the lump +of sugar, backed away, and stood in front of him. The horse did not +move. Suddenly Farrel snapped his fingers. With a gentle toss of his +head, Panchito threw the lump of sugar in the air and made a futile +snap at it as it came down. Then he rose, picked the lump up +carefully, and, holding it between his lips, advanced and proffered his +master a bite. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, you eat it yourself!" Farrel cried, and reached for the horse's +unkempt mane. With the ease of long practice, he swung aboard the +horse and, at the touch of his heels, Panchito bounded away. Far down +the mesa he raced, Farrel guiding him with his knees; then back and +over the six-foot corral-fence with something of the airy freedom of a +bird. In the corral, Farrel slid off, ran with the galloping animal +for fifty feet, grasping his mane, and sprang completely over him, ran +fifty feet more and sprang back, as nimbly as a monkey. Panchito was +galloping easily, steadily, now, at a trained gait, like a circus +horse, so Farrel sat sideways on him and discarded his boots, after +which he stood erect on the smooth, glossy back and rode him, first on +one foot, then on the other. Next he sat down on the animal again and +clapped his hands. +</P> + +<P> +"Panchito, my boots!" he ordered. But Panchito only pinned his ears +and shook his head. "You see," Farrel called to Kay, "he is a +gentleman, and declines to perform a menial service. But I shall force +him. Panchito, you rebel, pick up my boots and hand them to me." +</P> + +<P> +For answer, Panchito threw his hind end aloft half a dozen times, and +Kay's silvery laugh echoed through the corral as Farrel, appearing to +lose his seat, slid forward on the horse's withers and clung with arms +and legs round Panchito's neck, emulating terror. Thereupon, Panchito +stood up on his hind legs, and Farrel, making futile clutchings at the +horse's mane, slid helplessly back; over his mount's glossy rump and +sat down rather solidly in the dust of the corral. +</P> + +<P> +"Bravo!" the girl cried. "Why, he's a circus horse!" +</P> + +<P> +"I've schooled him a little for trick riding at rodeos, Miss Parker. +We've carried off many a prize, and when I dress in the motley of a +clown and pretend to ride him rough and do that silly slide, most +people enjoy it." +</P> + +<P> +Farrel got up, recovered his boots, and put them on. +</P> + +<P> +"He'll do, the old humorist," he announced, as he joined her. "He +hasn't forgotten anything, and wasn't he glad to see me again? You use +an English saddle, I dare say, and ride with a short stirrup?" +</P> + +<P> +Panchito dutifully followed like a dog at heel to the tack-room, where +Farrel saddled him and carefully fitted the bridle with the +snaffle-bit. Following a commanding slap on the fore leg, the +intelligent animal knelt for Kay to mount him, after which, Farrel +adjusted the stirrup leathers for her. +</P> + +<P> +In the meantime, Pablo was saddling a splendid, big dappled-gray +gelding. +</P> + +<P> +"One of the best roping-horses in California, and very fast for half a +mile. He's half thoroughbred," Farrel explained. "He was my father's +mount." He caressed the gray's head. "Do you miss him, Bob, +old-timer?" he queried. +</P> + +<P> +Kay observed her companion's saddle. It was of black, hand-carved +leather, with sterling-silver trimmings and long <I>tapaderas</I>—a saddle +to thrill every drop of the Castilian blood that flowed in the veins of +its owner. The bridle was of finely plaited rawhide, with fancy +sliding knots, a silver Spanish bit, and single reins of silver-link +chain and plaited rawhide. At the pommel hung coiled a well-worn +rawhide riata. +</P> + +<P> +When the gray was saddled, Farrel did not mount, but came to Kay and +handed her the horsehair leading-rope. +</P> + +<P> +"If you will be good enough to take the horses round in front," he +suggested, "I'll go back to the kennels and loose the hounds. On our +way over to the Sepulvida rancho, we're liable to put up a panther or a +coyote, and if we can get our quarry out into the open, we'll have a +glorious chase. I've run coyotes and panthers down with Panchito and +roped them. A panther isn't to be sneezed at," he continued, +apologetically. "The state pays a bounty of thirty dollars for a +panther-pelt, and then gives you back the pelt." +</P> + +<P> +Five minutes later, when he came round the north corner of the old +hacienda, his hounds frisking before him, he met Kay riding to meet him +on Panchito, but the gray gelding was not in sight. The girl was +excited. +</P> + +<P> +"Where is my mount, Miss Parker?" he demanded. +</P> + +<P> +"Just as I rode up in front, a man came out of the patio, and started +that automobile hurriedly. He had scarcely gotten it turned round when +one of his front tires blew out. This seemed to infuriate him and +frighten him. He considered a minute or two, then suddenly ran over to +me, snatched the leading-rope out of my hand, mounted, and fled down +the avenue at top speed." +</P> + +<P> +"'The wicked flee when no man pursueth'," the master of Palomar +replied, quietly, and stepped over to the automobile for an examination +of the license. "Ah, my father's ancient enemy!" he exclaimed, "André +Loustalot has been calling on your father, and has just learned that I +am living. I think I comprehend his reason for borrowing my horse and +dusting out of here so precipitately." +</P> + +<P> +"There he goes now!" Kay cried, as the gray burst from the shelter of +the palms in the avenue and entered the long open stretch of white road +leading down the San Gregorio. +</P> + +<P> +Don Mike's movements were as casual as if the theft of a horse in broad +daylight was an every-day occurrence. +</P> + +<P> +"Unfortunately for that stupid fellow, he borrowed the wrong horse," he +announced, gravely. "The sole result of his action will be to delay +our ride until tomorrow. I'm sorry, but it now becomes necessary for +me to ask you for Panchito." +</P> + +<P> +She slid silently to the ground. Swiftly but calmly he readjusted the +stirrups; then he faced the girl. +</P> + +<P> +"Want to see some fun?" he demanded. +</P> + +<P> +"Why—yes," she replied, breathlessly. +</P> + +<P> +"You're a good little sport. Take your father's car and follow me. +Please bring Pablo with you, and tell him I said he was to bring his +rifle. If Loustalot gets me, he is to follow on Panchito and get +Loustalot. Thank you, Miss Parker." +</P> + +<P> +He swung lightly into the unaccustomed flat saddle and, disdaining to +follow the road, cut straight across country; Panchito taking the +fences easily, the hounds belling lustily as they strung out behind +him. Kay did not wait to follow his flight, but calling for William to +get out the car, she ran round to the barn and delivered Farrel's +message to Pablo, who grunted his comprehension and started for his +cabin at a surprising rate of speed for an old man. Five minutes after +Farrel had left the Rancho Palomar, Kay and Pablo were roaring down the +valley in pursuit. +</P> + +<P> +Half a mile beyond the mission they came upon Don Mike and his father's +enemy. In the first mile, the latter had ridden the gray out; spent, +gasping, the gallant animal was proceeding at a leg-weary, lumbering +gallop when Miguel Farrel, following on Panchito at half that gallant +animal's speed, came up with Loustalot. Straight at the big gray he +drove, "hazing" him off the road and stopping him abruptly. At the +same time, he leaped from Panchito full on top of Loustalot, and bore +the latter crashing to the ground. +</P> + +<P> +The chase was over. Half-stunned, the enemy of Don Miguel José Farrel +II lay flat on his back, blinking up at Don Miguel Farrel III as the +latter's knees pressed the Loustalot breast, the while his fingers +clasped the hairy Loustalot throat in a grip that was a promise of +death if the latter struggled. +</P> + +<P> +As Kay drew up in the car and, white-faced and wondering, gazed at the +unwonted spectacle, Miguel Farrel released his captive and stood erect. +</P> + +<P> +"So sorry to have made a brawl in your presence, Miss Parker, but he +would have ruined our old Bob horse if I hadn't overtaken him." He +turned to the man on the ground. "Get up, Loustalot!" The latter +staggered to his feet. "Pablo," Farrel continued, "take this man back +to the ranch and lock him up in your private calaboose. See that he +does not escape, and permit no one to speak with him." +</P> + +<P> +Prom the gray's saddle he took a short piece of rope, such as vaqueros +use to tie the legs of an animal when they have roped and thrown it. +</P> + +<P> +"Mount!" he commanded. Loustalot climbed wearily aboard the spent +gray, and held his hands behind him with Farrel bound them securely. +Pablo thereupon mounted Panchito, took the gray's leading-rope, and +started back to the ranch. +</P> + +<P> +"How white your face is!" Farrel murmured, deprecatingly, as he came to +the side of the car. "So sorry our ride has been spoiled." He glanced +at his wrist-watch. "Only ten o'clock," he continued. "I wonder if +you'd be gracious enough to motor me in to El Toro. Your father plans +to use the car after luncheon, but we will be back by twelve-thirty." +</P> + +<P> +"Certainly. Delighted!" the girl replied, in rather a small, +frightened voice. +</P> + +<P> +"Thank you." He considered a moment. "I think it no less than fair to +warn you, Miss Parker, that my trip has to do with a scheme that may +deprive your father of his opportunity to acquire the Rancho Palomar at +one-third of its value. I think the scheme may be at least partially +successful, but if I am to succeed at all, I'll have to act promptly." +</P> + +<P> +She held out her hand to him. +</P> + +<P> +"My father plays fair, Don Mike. I hope you win." +</P> + +<P> +And she unlatched the door of the tonneau and motioned him to enter. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap13"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +XIII +</H3> + + +<P> +The return of Pablo Artelan to the hacienda with his employer's +prisoner was a silent and dignified one up to the moment they reached +the entrance to the palm avenue. Here the prisoner, apparently having +gathered together his scattered wits, turned in the saddle and +addressed his guard. +</P> + +<P> +"Artelan," he said, in Spanish, "if you will permit me to go, I will +give you five thousand dollars." +</P> + +<P> +"If you are worth five thousand dollars to me," the imperturbable Pablo +replied, calmly, "how much more are you worth to Don Miguel Farrel?" +</P> + +<P> +"Ten thousand! You will be wealthy." +</P> + +<P> +"What need have I for wealth, Loustalot? Does not Don Miguel provide +all things necessary for a happy existence?" +</P> + +<P> +"I will give you twelve thousand. Do not be a fool, Artelan. Come; be +sensible and listen to reason." +</P> + +<P> +"Silence, animal! Is not the blood of my brother on your head? One +word———" +</P> + +<P> +"Fifteen thousand, Artelan. Quick. There is little time to———" +</P> + +<P> +Pablo rode up beside him and quite deliberately smote the man heavily +across the mouth with the back of his hand. +</P> + +<P> +"There will be no more talk of money," he commanded, tersely. +</P> + +<P> +John Parker had finished writing his letters and was standing, with his +wife and the potato baron, in front of the hacienda when Pablo and his +prisoner rode into the yard. Thin rivulets of blood were trickling +from the Basque's nose and lips; his face was ashen with rage and +apprehension. +</P> + +<P> +"Why, Loustalot, what has happened?" Parker cried, and stepped out to +intercept the gray gelding, but Pablo, riding behind, struck the gray +on the flank, and the animal bounded forward. But Parker was not to be +denied. He, too, leaped, seized the reins, and brought the animal to a +halt. Pablo glared at him hatefully; then, remembering that this man +was no longer an interloper, but an honored guest of the house of +Farrel, he removed his sombrero and bowed courteously. +</P> + +<P> +"Señor Parker," he explained, "thees man, Loustalot, have made the beeg +meestake to steal thees horse from Don Miguel Farrel. For long time +since Don Miguel he's beeg like leetle baby, thees Basque he cannot set +the foot on the Rancho Palomar, but to-day, because he theenk Don +Miguel don' leeve, theese fellow have the beeg idea she's all right for +come to theese rancho. Well, he come." Here Pablo shrugged. "I think +mebbeso you tell theese Loustalot Don Miguel have come back. +<I>Car-ramba</I>! He is scared like hell. Queeck, like rabbeet, he run for +those automobile, but those automobile she have one leak in the wheel. +<I>Señor</I>, thees is the judgment of God. Myself, I theenk the speerit of +Don Miguel's father have put the nail where thees fellow can peeck heem +up. Well, when hee's nothing for do, hee's got for do sometheeng, eh? +<I>Mira</I>! If Don Miguel catch thees coyote on the Rancho Palomar, hee's +cut off hees tail like that"—and Pablo snapped his tobacco-stained +fingers. "Queeck! Hee's got for do something for make the vamose. +The Señorita Parker, she rides Panchito and holds the gray horse for +Don Miguel, who has gone for get the dogs. Thees animal, Loustalot, +hee's go crazy with the fear, so he grab thees gray horse from the +Señorita Parker and hee's ride away fast like the devil just when Don +Miguel arrive with the hounds. Then Don Miguel, hee's take Panchito +and go get thees man." +</P> + +<P> +"But where are Don Miguel and Miss Parker now?" +</P> + +<P> +"Mees Parker, she take the automobile; the señorita and Don Miguel go +to El Toro. Me, I come back with thees Basque for put heem in the +calaboose." +</P> + +<P> +"But, Pablo, you cannot confine this man without a warrant." +</P> + +<P> +Pablo, too polite to argue with a guest, merely bowed and smiled +deprecatingly. +</P> + +<P> +"My boss, hee's tell me put thees fellow in the calaboose. If trouble +come from thees—well, Don Miguel have the fault, not Pablo Artelan. +If the <I>señor</I> please for let go the gray horse—no?" +</P> + +<P> +"Farrel has gone to El Toro to attach my bank-account and my sheep," +the Basque explained in a whisper, leaning low over the gray's neck. +"His father had an old judgment against me. When I thought young +Farrel dead, I dared do business—in my own name—understand? Now, if +he collects, you've lost the Rancho Palomar—help me, for God's sake, +Parker!" +</P> + +<P> +Parker's hand fell away from the reins. +</P> + +<P> +"I have no sympathy for you, Loustalot," he replied, coldly. "If you +have stolen this horse, you must pay the penalty. I shall not help +you. This is no affair of mine." And he stepped aside and waved +Loustalot back into Pablo's possession, who thanked him politely and +rode away round the hacienda wall. Three minutes later, Loustalot, his +hands unbound, was safe under lock and key in the settlement-room, and +Pablo, rifle in lap, sat on a box outside the door and rolled a +brown-paper cigarette. +</P> + +<P> +Throughout the preceding colloquy, Mrs. Parker had said nothing. When +Pablo and his prisoner had disappeared, she asked her husband: +</P> + +<P> +"What did that man say to you? He spoke in such a low tone I couldn't +hear him." +</P> + +<P> +Parker, without hesitation, related to her, in the presence of Okada, +the astonishing news which Loustalot had given him. +</P> + +<P> +"Good!" the lady declared, emphatically. "I hope that delightful Don +Mike collects every penny." +</P> + +<P> +"Very poor business, I zink," Mr. Okada opined, thoughtfully. +</P> + +<P> +"At any rate," Parker observed, "our host isn't letting the grass grow +under his feet. I wonder if he'll attach Loustalot's automobile. It's +new, and worth about eight thousand dollars. Well, we shall see what +we shall see." +</P> + +<P> +"I zink I take little walk. 'Scuse me, please," said Okada, and bowed +to Parker and his wife. He gave both the impression that he had been +an unwilling witness to an unhappy and distressing incident and wished +to efface himself from the scene. Mrs. Parker excused him with a brief +and somewhat wintry smile, and the little Oriental started strolling +down the palm-lined avenue. No sooner had the gate closed behind them, +however, than he hastened back to Loustalot's car, and at the end of +ten minutes of furious labor had succeeded in exchanging the deflated +tire for one of the inflated spare tires at the rear of the car. This +matter attended to, he strolled over to the ranch blacksmith shop and +searched through it until he found that which he sought—a long, heavy +pair of bolt-clippers such as stockmen use for dehorning young cattle. +Armed with this tool, he slipped quietly round to the rear of Pablo's +"calaboose," and went to work noiselessly on the small iron-grilled +window of the settlement-room. +</P> + +<P> +The bars were an inch in diameter and too thick to be cut with the +bolt-clippers, but Okada did not despair. With the tool he grasped the +adobe window-ledge and bit deeply into it. Piece after piece of the +ancient adobe came away, until presently the bases of the iron bars lay +exposed; whereupon Okada seized them, one by one, in his hands and bent +them upward and outward, backward and forward, until he was enabled to +remove them altogether. Then he stole quietly back to the blacksmith +shop, restored the bolt-clippers, went to the Basque's automobile, and +waited. +</P> + +<P> +Presently, Loustalot appeared warily round the corner. A glance at his +automobile showed that the flat tire had been shifted; whereupon he +nodded his thanks to the Japanese, who stared impassively while the +Basque climbed into his car, threw out his low gear, let go his brakes, +and coasted silently out of the yard and into the avenue. The hacienda +screened him from Pablo's view as the latter, all unconscious of what +was happening, dozed before the door of the empty settlement-room. +Once over the lip of the mesa, Loustalot started his car and sped down +the San Gregorio as fast as he dared drive. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap14"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +XIV +</H3> + + +<P> +Following his illuminating interview with Pablo and Loustalot, John +Parker returned to a chair on the porch patio, lighted a fresh cigar, +and gave himself up to contemplating the tangle in his hitherto +well-laid plans. An orderly and methodical man always, it annoyed him +greatly to discover this morning that a diabolical circumstance over +which he had no control and which he had not remotely taken into +consideration should have arisen to embarrass and distress him and, +perchance, plunge him into litigation. Mrs. Parker, having possessed +herself of some fancy work, took a seat beside him, and, for the space +of several minutes, stitched on, her thoughts, like her husband's, +evidently bent upon the affairs of Miguel Farrel. +</P> + +<P> +"Who is this gory creature Pablo just brought in?" she demanded, +finally. +</P> + +<P> +"His name is André Loustalot, Kate, and he is a sheep-man from the San +Carpojo country—a Basque, I believe. He hasn't a particularly good +reputation in San Marcos County, but he's one of the biggest sheepmen +in the state and a heavy depositor in the bank at El Toro. He was one +of the reasons that moved me to buy the Farrel mortgage from the bank." +</P> + +<P> +"Explain the reason, John." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, I figured that eventually I would have to foreclose on old Don +Miguel Farrel, and it would require approximately two years after that +before my irrigation system would be completed and the valley lands +ready for colonization. I was tolerably certain I would never restock +the range with cattle, and I knew Loustalot would buy several thousand +young sheep and run them on the Palomar, provided I leased the +grazing-privilege to him for two years at a reasonable figure. I was +here, under authority of a court order, to conserve the estate from +waste, and my attorney assured me that, under that order, I had +authority to use my own judgment in the administration of the estate, +following the order of foreclosure. Now young Farrel shows up alive, +and that will nullify my suit for foreclosure. It also nullifies my +lease to Loustalot." +</P> + +<P> +"I'm quite certain that fiery Don Mike will never consent to the lease, +John," his wife remarked. +</P> + +<P> +"If he declines to approve the lease, I shall be quite embarrassed I +fear, Kate. You see, dear, Loustalot bought about fifteen thousand +sheep to pasture on the Palomar, and now he's going to find himself in +the unenviable position of having the sheep but no pasture. He'll +probably sue me to recover his loss, if any." +</P> + +<P> +"It's too bad you didn't wait ten days before signing that lease, John." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," he replied, a trifle testily. "But we all were convinced that +young Farrel had been killed in Siberia." +</P> + +<P> +"But you hadn't completed your title to this ranch, John?" +</P> + +<P> +"You wouldn't murder a man who was going to commit suicide, would you? +The ranch was as good as mine. If I had waited to make absolutely +certain Farrel was dead, the wait might have cost me fifty thousand +dollars. I rented the ranch at fifty cents per acre." +</P> + +<P> +"One hundred thousand acres, more or less, for two years, at fifty +cents per acre per annum. So, instead of making fifty thousand you've +lost that sum," his wife mused aloud. +</P> + +<P> +"I've lost one hundred thousand," he corrected. "A one-year lease is +not desirable; Loustalot was my sole client, and I've lost him for +good." +</P> + +<P> +"Why despair, John? I've a notion that if you give Don Mike fifty +thousand dollars to confirm Loustalot in the lease, he will forget his +enmity and agree to the lease. That would, at least, prevent a +law-suit." +</P> + +<P> +Parker's face brightened. +</P> + +<P> +"I might do that," he assented. "The title will remain in Farrel's +name for another year, and I have always believed that half a loaf was +better than none at all. If young Farrel subscribes to the same +sentiments, all may yet go nicely." +</P> + +<P> +"Fifty thousand dollars would be rather a neat sum to save out of the +wreck," she observed, sagely. "He seems quite a reasonable young man." +</P> + +<P> +"I like him," Parker declared. "I like him ever so much." +</P> + +<P> +"So do I, John. He's an old-fashioned gentleman." +</P> + +<P> +"He's a he man—the sort of chap I'd like to see Kay married to some +day." +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. Parker looked searchingly at her husband. +</P> + +<P> +"He told Kay he was half greaser, John. Would you care to have our +little daughter married to that sort of man?" +</P> + +<P> +"How like a woman! You always take the personal viewpoint. I said I'd +like to see Kay married to a he man like Miguel Farrel. And Farrel is +not half greaser. A greaser is, I take it, a sort of mongrel—Indian +and Spanish. Farrel is clean-strain Caucasian, Kate. He's a white +man—inside and out." +</P> + +<P> +"His financial situation renders him impossible, of course." +</P> + +<P> +"Naturally." +</P> + +<P> +"I wish it were otherwise, Johnny. Perhaps, if you were a little easy +with him—if you gave him a chance———" +</P> + +<P> +"Kate, I'd always be afraid of his easy-going Latin blood. If I should +put him on his feet, he would, in all probability, stand still. He +might even walk a little, but I doubt me if he'd ever do a Marathon." +</P> + +<P> +"John, you're wrong," Mrs. Parker affirmed, with conviction. "That +young man will go far. What would you do if Kay should fall in love +with him?" +</P> + +<P> +"I'm sure I do not know, Kate. What would you do?" +</P> + +<P> +"I do not know, John. Nevertheless, it is interesting to contemplate +the situation. If he should win this ranch back from you, he could +have her with my blessing." +</P> + +<P> +"Likewise with mine. That would put him right up in the go-getter +class, which is the class I want to see Kay marry into. But he will +not win back this ranch, Kate." +</P> + +<P> +"How do you know he will not?" +</P> + +<P> +"Because I'm going to do everything in my power to keep him from +redeeming it—and I'm neither a mental nor a financial cripple." +</P> + +<P> +"Where did the potato baron go?" Mrs. Parker queried, suddenly changing +the conversation. +</P> + +<P> +"Down into the valley, I imagine, to look over the land." +</P> + +<P> +"His presence here is not agreeable to Mr. Farrel, John. I think you +might manage to indicate to Mr. Okada that now, Mr. Farrel having +returned so unexpectedly, your land deal must necessarily be delayed +for a year, and consequently, further negotiations at this time are +impossible." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes; I think I had better give him a strong hint to go away. It +irritates Farrel to have him in the house, although he'd never admit it +to us." +</P> + +<P> +"I wonder, John, if it irritates him to have us in the house?" +</P> + +<P> +"I wanted to leave to-day, but when he invited us to stay, you wouldn't +permit me to consider leaving," he reminded her. +</P> + +<P> +"But, John, his manner was so hearty and earnest we had to accept. +Really, I think, we might have hurt his feelings if we had declined." +</P> + +<P> +"Kay seemed happy to stay." +</P> + +<P> +"That is another reason for accepting his invitation. I know she'll +enjoy it so here." +</P> + +<P> +"I wouldn't be at all surprised," Parker replied, dryly. "She has +helped herself to the car and driver in order to aid Farrel at my +expense." +</P> + +<P> +His humorous wife smiled covertly. Parker smoked contemplatively for a +quarter of an hour. Then, +</P> + +<P> +"Here comes the smiling son of Nippon, John," Mrs. Parker remarked. +</P> + +<P> +The potato baron entered the secluded patio and sat down beside them on +the porch. With a preliminary whistling intake of breath, he remarked +that it was a beautiful day and then proceeded, without delay, to +discuss the subject closest to his heart—the fertile stretches of the +San Gregorio valley. +</P> + +<P> +Parker squirmed a trifle uneasily. +</P> + +<P> +"As I explained to you this morning, Mr. Okada," he began, "our deal +has become a trifle complicated by reason of the wholly unexpected +return of Mr. Miguel Farrel." +</P> + +<P> +"Very great misfortune," Okada sympathized. "Very great +disappointment." +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. Parker favored him with a look of violent dislike and departed +abruptly, much to Okada's relief. Immediately he drew his chair close +to Parker's. +</P> + +<P> +"You zink Mr. Farrel perhaps can raise in one year the money to redeem +property?" he demanded. +</P> + +<P> +"I haven't the slightest information as to his money-raising ability, +other than the information given me by that man Pablo has just locked +up. If, as Loustalot informed me, Farrel has a judgment against him, +he is extremely liable to raise a hundred thousand or more to-day, what +with funds in bank and about fifteen thousand sheep." +</P> + +<P> +"I zink Farrel not very lucky to-day wiz sheep, Mr. Parker." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, whether he's lucky or not, he has our deal blocked for one year. +I can do nothing now until title to this ranch is actually vested in +me. I am morally certain Farrel will never redeem the property, +but—well, you realize my predicament, Mr. Okada. Our deal is +definitely hung up for one year." +</P> + +<P> +"Very great disappointment!" Okada replied sadly. "Next year, I zink +California legislature make new law so Japanese people have very much +difficulty to buy land. Attorneys for Japanese Association of +California very much frightened because they know Japanese +treaty-rights not affected by such law. If my people can buy this +valley before that law comes to make trouble for Japanese people, I +zink very much better for everybody." +</P> + +<P> +"But, my dear Mr. Okada, I cannot make a move until Miguel Farrel fails +to redeem the property at the expiration of the redemption period, one +year hence." +</P> + +<P> +"Perhaps that sheeps-man kill Mr. Farrel," Okada suggested, hopefully. +"I hoping, for sake of Japanese people, that sheeps-man very bad luck +for Mr. Farrel." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, I wouldn't care to have him for an enemy. However, I dare say +Farrel knows the man well enough and will protect himself accordingly. +By the way, Farrel is violently opposed to Japanese colonization of the +San Gregorio." +</P> + +<P> +"You zink he have prejudice against Japanese people?" +</P> + +<P> +"I know it, Mr. Okada, and, for that reason, and the further reason +that our deal is now definitely hung up for a year, I suggest that you +return to El Toro with me this afternoon. I am no longer master here, +but I shall be delighted to have you as my guest at the hotel in El +Toro while you are making your investigations of the property. I wish +to avoid the possibility of embarrassment to you, to Mr. Farrel, and to +my family. I am sure you understand our position, Mr. Okada." +</P> + +<P> +The potato baron nodded, scowling slightly. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap15"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +XV +</H3> + + +<P> +At a point where the road, having left the valley and climbed a grade +to a mesa that gave almost an air-plane view of the San Gregorio, +Miguel Farrel looked back long and earnestly. For the first time since +entering the car, at Kay Parker's invitation, he spoke. +</P> + +<P> +"It's worth it," he announced, with conviction, "worth a fight to a +finish with whatever weapons come to hand. If I——— By the holy +poker! Sheep! Sheep on the Rancho Palomar! Thousands of them. Look! +Over yonder!" +</P> + +<P> +"How beautiful they look against those green and purple and gold +hillsides!" the girl exclaimed. +</P> + +<P> +"Usually a sheep is not beautiful to a cow-man," he reminded her. +"However, if those sheep belong to Loustalot, they constitute the +fairest sight mine eyes have gazed upon to date." +</P> + +<P> +"And who might he be?" +</P> + +<P> +"That shaggy thief I manhandled a few minutes ago. He's a sheep-man +from the San Carpojo, and for a quarter of a century he has not dared +set foot on the Palomar. Your father, thinking I was dead and that the +ranch would never be redeemed after foreclosure of the mortgage, leased +the grazing-privilege to Loustalot. I do not blame him. I do not +think we have more than five hundred head of cattle on the ranch, and +it would be a shame to waste that fine green feed." Suddenly the sad +and somber mien induced by his recent grief fled his countenance. He +turned to her eagerly. "Miss Parker, if I have any luck worth while +to-day, I think I may win back my ranch." +</P> + +<P> +"I wish you could win it back, Don Mike. I think we all wish it." +</P> + +<P> +"I hope you all do." He laughed joyously. "My dear Miss Parker, this +is the open season on terrible practical jokes. I'm no judge of sheep +in bulk, but there must be not less than ten thousand over on that +hillside, and if the title to them is vested in André Loustalot to-day, +it will be vested in me about a month from now. I shall attach them; +they will be sold at pub-lie auction by the sheriff to satisfy in part +my father's old judgment against Loustalot, and I shall bid them +in—cheap. Nobody in San Marcos County will bid against me, for I can +outbid everybody and acquire the sheep without having to put up a cent +of capital. Oh, my dear, thoughtful, vengeful old dad! Dying, he +assigned that judgment to me and had it recorded. I came across it in +his effects last night. +</P> + +<P> +"What are sheep worth, Don Mike?" +</P> + +<P> +"I haven't the slightest idea, but I should say that by next fall, +those sheep should be worth not less than six dollars a head, including +the wool-clip. They will begin to lamb in February, and by the time +your father dispossesses me a year hence, the increase will amount to +considerable. That flock of sheep should be worth about one hundred +thousand dollars by the time I have to leave the Palomar, and I <I>know</I> +I'm going to collect at least fifty thousand dollars in cash in +addition." +</P> + +<P> +He drew from his vest pocket a check for that sum, signed by André +Loustalot and drawn in favor of John Parker, Trustee. +</P> + +<P> +"How did you come by that check?" Kay demanded. "It belongs to my +father, so, if you do not mind, Mr. Farrel, I shall retain it and +deliver it to my father." Quite deliberately, she folded the check and +thrust it into her hand-bag. There was a bright spot of color in each +cheek as she faced him, awaiting his explanation. He favored her with +a Latin shrug. +</P> + +<P> +"Your father will not accept the check, Miss Parker. Loustalot came to +the hacienda this morning for the sole purpose of handing him this +check, but your father refused to accept it on the plea that the lease +he had entered into with Loustalot for the grazing-privilege of the +ranch was now null and void." +</P> + +<P> +"How do you know all this? You were not present." +</P> + +<P> +"No; I was not present. Miss Parker, but—this check is present; those +sheep are present; André Loustalot was present, then absent, and is now +present again. I deduce the facts in the case. The information that I +was alive and somewhere around the hacienda gave Loustalot the fright +of his unwashed existence; that's why he appropriated that gray horse +and fled so precipitately when he discovered his automobile had a fiat +tire. The scoundrel feared to take time to shift wheels." +</P> + +<P> +"Why?" +</P> + +<P> +"He had the promise of a Farrel that a great misfortune would overtake +him if he ever get foot on the Rancho Palomar. And he knows the tribe +of Farrel." +</P> + +<P> +"But how did you secure possession of that check, Don Mike?" +</P> + +<P> +"Miss Parker, when a hard-boiled, unconvicted murderer and grass-thief +borrows my horse without my permission, and I ride that sort of man +down, upset him, sit on him, and choke him, the instincts of my +ancestors, the custom of the country, common sense, and my late +military training all indicate to me that I should frisk him for deadly +weapons. I did that. Well, I found this check when I frisked +Loustalot back yonder. And—if a poor bankrupt like myself may be +permitted to claim a right, you are not so well entitled to that check +as I am. At least, I claim it by right of discovery." +</P> + +<P> +"It is worthless until my father endorses it, Don Mike." +</P> + +<P> +"His clear, bold chirography will not add a mite to its value, Miss +Parker. Checks by André Loustalot on the First National Bank of El +Toro aren't going to be honored for some little time. Why? I'll tell +you. Because Little Mike the Hustler is going to attach his +bank-account this bright April morning." +</P> + +<P> +She laughed happily. +</P> + +<P> +"You haven't wasted much time in vain regret, have you?" she teased +him. "When you start hustling for a living, you're a man what hustles, +aren't you?" +</P> + +<P> +"'Eternal vigilance is the price of liberty,'" he quoted. "Those sheep +weren't visible to us from the floor of the valley; so I take it I was +not visible to Loustalot's shepherds from the top of those hills when I +redeemed my father's promise to their employer. They'd never suspect +the identity of either of us, I dare say. Well, Pablo will hold him +<I>incomunicado</I> until I've completed my investigations." +</P> + +<P> +"Why are you incarcerating him in your private bastile, Don Mike?" +</P> + +<P> +"Well, I never thought to profane my private bastile with that fellow, +but I have to keep him somewhere while I'm looking up his assets." +</P> + +<P> +"But he may sue you for false imprisonment, kidnapping, or—or +something." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes; and I imagine he'd get a judgment against me. But what good +would that do him? I haven't any assets." +</P> + +<P> +"But you're going to acquire some rather soon, are you not?" +</P> + +<P> +"I'll give all my money to my friend, Father Dominic, to do with as he +sees fit. He'll see fit to loan it all back to me." +</P> + +<P> +"But can you hide ten thousand sheep?" +</P> + +<P> +"If that fellow tries to levy on my sheep, I'll about murder him," +Farrel declared. "But we're crossing our bridges before we come to +them." +</P> + +<P> +"So we are, Don Mike. Tell me all about this ancient feud with André +Loustalot." +</P> + +<P> +"Certainly. Twenty-five-odd years ago, this county was pestered by a +gang of petty cow-thieves. They'd run lots of from ten to twenty fat +steers off the range at a time, slaughter them in El Toro, and bury the +hides to conceal the identity of the animals—the brands, you +understand. The meat they would peddle to butchers in towns along the +railroad line. The ringleader owned a slaughter-house in El Toro, and, +for a long time, nobody suspected him—the cattle were driven in at +night. Well, my father grew weary of this form of old-fashioned +profiteering, and it seemed to him that the sheriff of San Marcos +County was too great a simpleton to do anything about it. So my father +stood for the office as an independent candidate and was elected on a +platform which read, 'No steers' taken off this ranch without +permission in writing from the owner.' Within six months, dad had half +a dozen of our prominent citizens in San Quentin Penitentiary; then he +resigned the office to his chief deputy, Don Nicolás Sandoval, who has +held it ever since. +</P> + +<P> +"Now, during that political campaign, which was a warm and bitter one, +André Loustalot permitted himself the privilege of libeling my father. +He declared in a public address to a gathering of voters in the San +Carpojo valley that my father was a crook, the real leader of the +rustlers, and merely seeking the office of sheriff in order to protect +the cow-thieves. When the campaign ended, my father swore to a warrant +charging Loustalot with criminal libel and sued him for one hundred +thousand dollars damages. A San Marcos County jury awarded my father a +judgment in the sum prayed for. Loustalot appealed the case to the +Supreme Court, but inasmuch as there wasn't the slightest doubt of his +guilt, the higher court affirmed the decision of the Superior Court. +</P> + +<P> +"Loustalot was a poor man in those days. He was foreman of a sheep +outfit, with an interest in the increase of the flock, and inasmuch as +these Basques seldom reduce their deals to writing, the sheriff could +never satisfy himself that Loustalot had any assets in the shape of +sheep. At any rate, the Basque and his employer and all of his Basque +friends denied that Loustalot had any assets. +</P> + +<P> +"For twenty-five years, my father has, whenever the statute of +limitations threatened to kill this judgment, revived it by having +Loustalot up on an order of court to be questioned regarding his +ability to meet the judgment; every once in a while my father would sue +out a new writ of execution, which would be returned unsatisfied by the +sheriff. Six months ago, my father had the judgment revived by due +legal process, and, for some reason best known to himself, assigned it +to me and had the assignment recorded. Of course, when I was reported +killed in Siberia, Loustalot's attorneys naturally informed him that my +judgment had died with me unless I had left a will in favor of my +father. But when my father died intestate and there were no known +heirs, Loustalot doubtless felt that at last the curse had been lifted +and probably began doing business in his own name. He's a thrifty +fellow and, I dare say, he made a great deal of money on sheep during +the war. I hope he has. That old judgment has been accumulating +interest at seven per cent. for more than a quarter of a century, and +in this state I believe the interest is compounded." +</P> + +<P> +"But why did Loustalot hate your father so?" the girl queried. +</P> + +<P> +"We had good fences on our ranch, but somehow those fences always +needed repairing whenever André Loustalot's flock wandered over from +the San Carpojo. In this state, one cannot recover for trespass unless +one keeps one's fences in repair—and Loustalot used to trespass on our +range quite frequently and then blame his cussedness on our fences. Of +course, he broke our fences to let his sheep in to water at our +waterholes, which was very annoying to us, because sheep befoul a range +and destroy it; they eat down to the very grass-roots, and cattle will +not drink at a water-hole patronized by sheep. Well, our patience was +exhausted at last; so my father told Pablo to put out saltpeter at all +of our water-holes. Saltpeter is not harmful to cattle but it is death +to sheep, and the only way we could keep Loustalot off our range +without resorting to firearms was to make his visits unprofitable. +They were. That made Loustalot hate us, and one day, over in the Agua +Caliente basin, when Pablo and his riders found Loustalot and his sheep +there, they rushed about five hundred of his sheep over a rocky bench +and dropped them a sheer two hundred feet into a cañon. That started +some shooting, and Pablo's brother and my first cousin, Juan Galvez, +were killed. Loustalot, wounded, escaped on the pack-mule belonging to +his sheep outfit, and after that he and my father didn't speak." +</P> + +<P> +Kay turned in her seat and looked at Farrel curiously. +</P> + +<P> +"If you were not so desperately situated financially," she wanted to +know, "would you continue to pursue this man?" +</P> + +<P> +He smiled grimly. +</P> + +<P> +"Certainly. My father's honor, the blood of my kinsman, and the blood +of a faithful servant call for justice, however long delayed. Also, +the honor of my state demands it now. I am prepared to make any +sacrifice, even of my life, and grasp eagerly at all legal means—to +prevent your father putting through tins monstrous deal with Okada." +</P> + +<P> +She was troubled of soul. +</P> + +<P> +"Of course," she pleaded presently, "you'll play the game with dad as +fairly as he plays it with you." +</P> + +<P> +"I shall play the game with him as fairly as he plays it with this land +to which he owes allegiance," he corrected her sternly. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap16"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +XVI +</H3> + + +<P> +It was eleven o'clock when the car rolled down the main street of El +Toro. From the sidewalk, sundry citizens, of diverse shades of color and +conditions of servitude, observing Minuet Farrel, halted abruptly and +stared as if seeing a ghost. Don Mike wanted to shout to them glad words +of greeting, of affectionate badinage, after the fashion of that +easy-going and democratic community, but he feared to make the girl at +his side conspicuous; so he contented himself by uncovering gravely to +the women and waving debonairly to the men. This constituting ocular +evidence that he was not a ghost or a man who bore a striking physical +resemblance to one they mourned as dead, the men so saluted returned his +greeting. +</P> + +<P> +The few who had recognized him as he entered the town, quickly, by their +cries of greeting, roused the loungers and idle conversationalists along +the sidewalks further down the street. There was a rush to shop doors, a +craning of necks, excited inquiries in Spanish and English; more shouts +of greeting. A gaunt, hawk-faced elderly man, with Castilian features, +rode up on a bay horse, showed a sheriff's badge to William, the +chauffeur, and informed him he was arrested for speeding. Then he +pressed his horse close enough to extend a hand to Farrel. +</P> + +<P> +"Miguel, my boy," he said in English, out of deference to the girl in the +car, "this is a very great—a very unexpected joy. We have grieved for +you, my friend." +</P> + +<P> +His faint clipped accent, the tears in his eyes, told Kay that this man +was one of Don Miguel's own people. Farrel clasped the proffered hand +and replied to him in Spanish; then, remembering his manners, he +presented the horseman as Don Nicolás Sandoval, sheriff of the county. +Don Nicolás bent low over his horse's neck, his wide gray hat clasped to +his gallant heart. +</P> + +<P> +"You will forgive the emotion of a foolish old man, Miss Parker," he +said, "but we of San Marcos County love this boy." +</P> + +<P> +Other friends now came running; in a few minutes perhaps a hundred men, +boys, and women had surrounded the car, struggling to get closer, vying +with each other to greet the hero of the San Gregorio. They babbled +compliments and jocularities at him; they cheered him lustily; with +homely bucolic wit they jeered his army record because they were so proud +of it, and finally they began a concerted cry of; "Speech! Speech! +Speech!" +</P> + +<P> +Don Mike stood up in the tonneau and removed his hat. Instantly silence +settled over the crowd, and Kay thought that she had never seen a more +perfect tribute of respect paid anyone. He spoke to them briefly, with a +depth of sentiment only possible in a descendant of two of the most +sentimental races on earth; but he was not maudlin. When he had +concluded his remarks, he repeated them in Spanish for the benefit of +those who had never learned English very well or at all. +</P> + +<P> +And now, although Kay did not understand a word of what he said, she +realized that in his mother tongue he was infinitely more tender, more +touching, more dramatic than he could possibly be in English, for his +audience wagged approving' heads now and paid him the tribute of many a +furtive tear. +</P> + +<P> +Don Nicolás Sandoval rode his horse through the crowd presently and +opened a path for the car. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm afraid this has been a trifle embarrassing for you, Miss Parker," +Farrel remarked, as they proceeded down the street. "I shall not +recognize any more of them. I've greeted them all in general, and some +day next week I'll come to town and greet them in detail. They were all +glad I came back, though, weren't they?" he added, with a boy's +eagerness. "Lord, but I was glad to see them!" +</P> + +<P> +"I can hardly believe you are the same man I saw manhandling your enemy +an hour ago," she declared. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh," he replied, with a careless shrug, "fighting and loving are the +only two worth-while things in life. Park in front of the court-house, +William, please." +</P> + +<P> +He excused himself to Kay and ran lightly up the steps. Fifteen minutes +later, he returned. +</P> + +<P> +"I have a writ of execution," he declared. "Now to find the sheriff and +have him serve it." +</P> + +<P> +They located Don Nicolás Sandoval at the post-office, one leg cocked over +the pommel of his saddle, and the El Toro <I>Sentinel</I> spread on his knee. +</P> + +<P> +"Father's old business with the Basque, Don Nicolás," Farrel informed +him. "He has money deposited in his own name in the First National Bank +of El Toro." +</P> + +<P> +"I have grown old hunting that fellow's assets, Miguel, my boy," quoth +Don Nicolás. "If I can levy on a healthy bank-account, I shall feel that +my life has not been lived in vain." +</P> + +<P> +He folded his newspaper, uncoiled his leg from the pommel, and started up +the street at the dignified fast walk he had taught his mount. Farrel +returned to the car and, with Kay, arrived before the portals of the bank +a few minutes in advance of the sheriff, just in time to see Andre +Loustalot leap from his automobile, dash up the broad stone steps, and +fairly hurl himself into the bank. +</P> + +<P> +"I don't know whether I ought to permit him to withdraw his money and +have Don Nicolás attach it on his person or not. Perhaps that would be +dangerous," Miguel remarked. He stepped calmly out of the car, assisted +Kay to alight, and, with equal deliberation, entered the bank with the +girl. +</P> + +<P> +"Now for some fun," he whispered. "Behold the meanest man in +America—myself!" +</P> + +<P> +Loustalot was at the customers' desk writing a check to cash for his +entire balance in bank. Farrel permitted him to complete the drawing of +the check, watched the Basque almost trot toward the paying-teller's +window, and as swiftly trotted after him. +</P> + +<P> +"All—everything!" Loustalot panted, and reached over the shoulders of +two customers in line ahead of him. But Don Miguel Farrel's arm was +stretched forth also; his long brown fingers closed over the check and +snatched it from the Basque's hand as he murmured soothingly: +</P> + +<P> +"You will have to await your turn, Loustalot. For your bad manners, I +shall destroy this check." And he tore the signature off and crumpled +the little slip of paper into a ball, which he flipped into Loustalot's +brutal face. +</P> + +<P> +The Basque stood staring at him, inarticulate with fury; Don Mike faced +his enemy with a bantering, prescient little smile. Then, with a great +sigh that was in reality a sob, Loustalot abandoned his primal impulse to +hurl himself upon Farrel and attempt to throttle; instead, he ran back to +the customers' desk and started scribbling another check. Thereupon, the +impish Farrel removed the ink, and when Loustalot moved to another +ink-well, Farrel's hand closed over that. Helpless and desperate, +Loustalot suddenly began to weep; uttering peculiar mewing cries, he +clutched at Farrel with the fury of a gorilla. Don Mike merely dodged +round the desk, and continued to dodge until out of the tail of his eye, +he saw the sheriff enter the bank and stop at the cashier's desk. +Loustalot, blinded with tears of rage, failed to see Don Nicolás; he had +vision only for Don Mike, whom he was still pursuing round the customers' +desk. +</P> + +<P> +The instant Don Nicolás served his writ of attachment, the cashier left +his desk, walked round in back of the various tellers' cages, and handed +the writ to the paying teller; whereupon Farrel, pretending to be +frightened, ran out of the bank. Instantly, Loustalot wrote his check +and rushed again to the paying-tellers window. +</P> + +<P> +"Too late, Mr. Loustalot. Your account has been attached," that +functionary informed him. +</P> + +<P> +Meanwhile, Don Nicolás had joined his friend on the sidewalk. +</P> + +<P> +"Here is his automobile, Don Nicolás," Farrel said. "I think we had +better take it away from him." +</P> + +<P> +Don Nicolás climbed calmly into the driver's seat, filled out a blank +notice of attachment under that certain duly authorized writ which his +old friend's son had handed him, and waited until Loustalot came +dejectedly down the bank steps to the side of the car; whereupon Don +Nicolás served him with the fatal document, stepped on the starter, and +departed for the county garage, where the car would be stored until sold +at auction. +</P> + +<P> +"Who let you out of my calaboose, Loustalot?" Don Mike queried amiably. +</P> + +<P> +"That high-toned Jap friend of Parker's," the Basque replied, with +malicious enjoyment. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm glad it wasn't Mr. Parker. Well, you stayed there long enough to +serve my purpose. By the way, your sheep are trespassing again." +</P> + +<P> +"They aren't my sheep." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, if you'll read that document, you'll see that all the sheep on the +Rancho Palomar at this date are attached, whether they belong to you or +not. Now, a word of warning to you, Loustalot: Do not come on the Rancho +Palomar for any purpose whatsoever. Understand ?" +</P> + +<P> +Loustalot's glance met his unflinchingly for fully ten seconds, and, in +that glance, Kay thought she detected something tigerish. +</P> + +<P> +"Home, William," she ordered the driver, and they departed from El Toro, +leaving Andre Loustalot standing on the sidewalk staring balefully after +them. +</P> + +<P> +They were half-way home before Don Mike came out of the reverie into +which that glance of Loustalot's had, apparently, plunged him. +</P> + +<P> +"Some day very soon," he said, "I shall have to kill that man or be +killed. And I'm sorry my guest, Mr. Okada, felt it incumbent upon +himself to interfere. If, between them, they have hurt Pablo, I shall +certainly reduce the extremely erroneous Japanese census records in +California by one." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap17"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +XVII +</H3> + + +<P> +John Parker and his wife, with the unsuspecting Okada, were lingering +over a late luncheon when Kay and Don Mike entered the dining-room. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, you bold Spanish cavalier, what do you mean by running away with +my little girl?" Mrs. Parker demanded. +</P> + +<P> +Before Farrel could reply, Kay answered for him. +</P> + +<P> +"We've had quite a wild and woolly Western adventure, mother dear. +Have you seen Pablo since we left together?" +</P> + +<P> +"I have," the lady replied. "He had Monsieur Loustalot in charge, and +related to us the details of the adventure up to the moment you and Mr. +Farrel left him with the prisoner while you two continued on to El +Toro. What happened in El Toro?" +</P> + +<P> +"Don Mike succeeded in attaching Loustalot's bank-account," Kay +informed the company. "The loot will probably amount to something over +fifty thousand dollars." +</P> + +<P> +"I should say that isn't a half-bad stipend to draw for your first +half-day pursuit of the nimble cart-wheel of commerce," Parker +suggested. +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. Parker pursed her lips comically. +</P> + +<P> +"The boy is clever, John. I knew it the moment I met him this morning. +Felicitations, Don Miguel. John intends to strip you down to your +birthday suit—fairly, of course—so keep up the good work, and +everything may still turn out right for you. I'll cheer for you, at +any rate." +</P> + +<P> +"Thank you, dear Mrs. Parker." Don Miguel slipped into his seat at the +head of the table. "I have also attached Loustalot's new automobile," +</P> + +<P> +"You Shylock! What else?" Mrs. Parker demanded eagerly. +</P> + +<P> +"About ten thousand sheep, more or less. I attached these on +suspicion, although the burden of proving that Loustalot owns them will +be upon me. However," he concluded, with a bright glance at Parker, "I +believe that can readily be accomplished—with your aid." +</P> + +<P> +"I shall be the poorest witness in the world, Mr. Farrel." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, I shall see to it, Mr. Parker, that you are given an opportunity +to tell the judge of the Superior Court in El Toro why Loustalot called +on you this morning, why a great band of sheep is trespassing on the +Rancho Palomar, why Loustalot drew a check in your favor for fifty +thousand dollars, why you declined to take it, what you said to +Loustalot this morning to cause him to steal one of my horses in his +anxiety to get off the ranch, why your attorneys drew up a certain +lease of the grazing-privilege to Loustalot, and why the deal fell +through." +</P> + +<P> +Parker flushed. +</P> + +<P> +"Can you produce that fifty-thousand-dollar check? I happen to know it +has not been cashed." +</P> + +<P> +"No, I cannot, Mr. Parker." +</P> + +<P> +Kay opened her purse and tossed the check across to her father. +</P> + +<P> +"It was drawn in your favor, dad," she informed him; "so I concluded it +was your property, and when Mr. Farrel came by it—ah, illegally—and +showed it to me, I retained it." +</P> + +<P> +"Good girl! Mr. Farrel, have you any objection to my returning this +check?" +</P> + +<P> +"Not the slightest. It has served its purpose. However, you will have +to wait until you meet Loustalot somewhere outside the boundaries of +the Rancho Palomar, sir. I had comforted myself with the thought that +he was safe under lock and key here, but, to my vast surprise, I met +him in the bank at El Toro making futile efforts to withdraw his cash +before I could attach the account. The confounded ingrate informs me +that Mr. Okada turned him loose." +</P> + +<P> +There was no mistaking the disapproval in the glance which Parker +turned upon Okada. +</P> + +<P> +"Is this true, Mr. Okada?" +</P> + +<P> +"It is not true," Okada replied promptly. "I know nozzing about. +Nozzing." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, Pablo thinks it is true, Mr. Okada." Don Miguel's voice was +unruffled, his manner almost benignant. "The old man is outside, and +absolutely broken-hearted. His honor appears to be quite gone. I +imagine," Don Mike continued, with a fleeting and whimsical glance at +the potato baron, "that he has evolved some primitive plan for making +his honor whole again. Direct methods always did appeal to Pablo." +</P> + +<P> +"Mr. Farrel," John Parker began, "I regret this incident more than I +can say. I give you my word of honor I had nothing to do with it +directly or indirectly———" +</P> + +<P> +"John, for goodness' sake, old dear, give Mr. Farrel credit for some +common sense. He knows very well you wouldn't break bread with him and +then betray him. Don't you, Mr. Farrel?" Mrs. Parker pleaded. +</P> + +<P> +"Of course, Mr. Parker's assurance is wholly unnecessary, Mrs. Parker." +</P> + +<P> +"Mr. Okada is leaving this afternoon," Parker hastened to assure him. +</P> + +<P> +"Mr. Okada shows commendable prudence." Don Mike's tones were +exceedingly dry. +</P> + +<P> +Okada rose and bowed his squinch-owl bow. +</P> + +<P> +"I very sorry," he sputtered. "I zink that man Pablo one big liar. +'Scuse, please; I go." +</P> + +<P> +"If he hadn't called Pablo a liar," Don Mike murmured plaintively, "I +should have permitted him to march out with the honors of war. As the +matter stands now, however, I invite all of you to listen attentively. +In a few minutes you're going to hear something that will remind you of +the distant whine of a sawmill. After all, Pablo is a poor old fellow +who lives a singularly humdrum existence." +</P> + +<P> +"Ah, yes; let the poor fellow have his simple little pleasures," Mrs. +Parker pleaded. "'All work and no play'—you know, Don Miguel." +</P> + +<P> +"My dear," Parker answered testily, "there are occasions when your +sense of humor is positively oppressive." +</P> + +<P> +"Very well, John; I'll be serious." His wife turned to Farrel. "Mr. +Farrel," she continued, "while you were away, I had a very bright idea. +You are much too few in the family for such a large house, and it +occurred to me that you might care to lease the Palomar hacienda to us +for a year. I'm so weary of hotels and equally weary of a town house, +with its social obligations and the insolence of servants—particularly +cooks. John needs a year here, and we would so like to remain if it +could be arranged. Your cook, Carolina, is not the sort that leaves +one's employ in the middle of a dinner-party." +</P> + +<P> +"Would five hundred dollars a month for the house and the use of +Carolina and three saddle-horses interest you, Mr. Farrel? From our +conversation of this morning, I judge you have abandoned hope of +redeeming the property, and during the year of the redemption period, +six thousand dollars might—ah—er———" +</P> + +<P> +"Well, it would be better than a poke in the eye with a sharp stick," +Don Miguel replied genially. "I need the money; so I accept—but with +certain reservations. I like Carolina's cooking, too; I have a couple +of hundred head of cattle to look after, and I'd like to reserve one +room, my place at this table, and my position as master of Palomar. Of +course, I'm not so optimistic as to think you folks would accept of my +hospitality for a year, so I suggest that you become what our British +cousins call 'paying guests,' albeit I had never expected to fall low +enough to make such a dastardly proposition. Really, it abases me. +It's never been done before in this house." +</P> + +<P> +"I declare you're the most comfortable young man to have around that I +have ever known. Isn't he, Kay?" Mrs. Parker declared. +</P> + +<P> +"I think you're very kind," the girl assured him. "And I think it will +be very delightful to be paying guests to such a host, Don Mike Farrel." +</P> + +<P> +"Then it's settled," Parker announced, much relieved. +</P> + +<P> +"And let us here highly resolve that we shall always be good friends +and dwell together in peace," Kay suggested. +</P> + +<P> +"I made that resolve when you met me at the gate last night, Miss +Parker. Hark! Methinks I hear a young riot. Well, we cannot possibly +have any interest in it, and, besides, we're talking business now. Mr. +Parker, there isn't the slightest hope of my earning sufficient money +to pay the mortgage you hold against this ranch of mine, so I have +resolved to gamble for it whenever and wherever I can. You have agreed +to pay me six thousand dollars, in return for which I guarantee to feed +you and your family and servants well, and house you comfortably and +furnish three saddle-horses, with saddles and bridles, for a period of +one year. Understand?" +</P> + +<P> +"Understood." +</P> + +<P> +Don Miguel Farrel took two dice out of his pocket and cuddled them in +his palm. +</P> + +<P> +"I'll roll you the bones, one flop, twelve thousand dollars or nothing, +sir," he challenged. +</P> + +<P> +"But if I win———" +</P> + +<P> +"You want to know if I am in a position to support you all for one year +if I lose? I am. There are cattle enough on the ranch to guarantee +that." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, while these little adventures are interesting, Mr. Farrel, the +fact is I've always made it a rule not to gamble." +</P> + +<P> +"Listen to the hypocrite!" his wife almost shouted. "Gambled every day +of his life for twenty-five years on the New York Stock Exchange, and +now he has the effrontery to make a statement like that! John Parker, +roll them bones!" +</P> + +<P> +"Not to-day," he protested. "This isn't my lucky day." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, it's mine," the good soul retorted. "Miguel—you'll pardon my +calling you by your first name: Miguel, but since I was bound to do so +sooner or later, we'll start now—Miguel, I'm in charge of the domestic +affairs of the Parker family, and I've never known a time when this +poor tired old business man didn't honor my debts. Roll 'em, Mike, and +test your luck." +</P> + +<P> +"Mother!" Kay murmured reproachfully. +</P> + +<P> +"Nonsense, dear! Miguel is the most natural gentleman, the first +<I>regular</I> young man I've met in years. I'm for him, and I want him to +know it. Are you for me, Miguel?" +</P> + +<P> +"All the way!" Don Mike cried happily, +</P> + +<P> +"There!" the curious woman declared triumphantly. "I knew we were +going to be good friends. What do I see before me? As I live, a pair +of box cars." +</P> + +<P> +"Mother, where <I>did</I> you learn such slang?" her daughter pleaded. +</P> + +<P> +"From the men your non-gambling father used to bring home to play poker +and shoot craps," she almost shouted. "Well, let us see if I can roll +two sixes and tie the score. I can! What's more, I do! Miguel, are +these dice college-bred? Ah! Old Lady Parker rolls a wretched little +pair of bull's-eyes!" +</P> + +<P> +Don Miguel took the dice and rolled—a pair of deuces. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm going to make big money operating a boarding-house," he informed +the lady. +</P> + +<P> +"'Landlord, fill the flowing bowl until it doth flow over,'" she sang +gaily. "John, you owe Miguel twelve thousand dollars, payable at the +rate of one thousand dollars a month for twelve months. Have your +lawyer in El Toro draw the lease this afternoon." +</P> + +<P> +Parker glanced at her with a broad hint of belligerence in his keen +gray eyes. +</P> + +<P> +"My dear," he rasped, "I wish you would take me seriously once in a +while. For twenty-five years I've tried to keep step with you, and +I've failed. One of these bright days I'm going to strike." +</P> + +<P> +"I recall three occasions when you went on strike, John, and refused to +accept my orders," the mischievous woman retorted sweetly. "At the +conclusion of the strike, you couldn't go back to work. Miguel, three +separate times that man has declined to cease money-making long enough +to play, although I begged him with tears in my eyes. And I'm not the +crying kind, either. And every time he disobeyed, he blew up. Miguel, +he came home to me as hysterical as a high-school girl, wept on my +shoulder, said he'd kill himself if he couldn't get more sleep, and +then surrendered and permitted me to take him away for six months. +Strange to relate, his business got along very nicely without him. Am +I not right, Kay?" +</P> + +<P> +"You are, mother dear. Dad reminds me of a horse at a livery-stable +fire. You rescue him from the flames, but the instant you let go his +halter-shank, he dashes into the burning barn." She winked ever so +slightly at Farrel. "Thanks to you, Don Mike," she assured him, +"father's claws are clipped for one year; thanks to you, again, we now +have a nice, quiet place to incarcerate him." +</P> + +<P> +Farrel could see that John Parker, while outwardly appearing to enjoy +this combined attack against him, was secretly furious. And Don Mike +knew why. His pride as a business man was being cruelly lacerated; he +had foolishly crawled out on the end of a limb, and now there was a +probability, although a remote one, that Miguel Farrel would saw off +the limb before he could crawl back. +</P> + +<P> +"Perhaps, Mr. Farrel," he replied, with a heroic attempt at jocularity, +"you will understand now that it was not altogether a cold hard heart +that prompted me to decline your request for a renewal of the mortgage +this morning. I couldn't afford to. I had agreed to gamble one +million dollars that you were thoroughly and effectually dead—I +couldn't see one chance in a million where this ranch would get away +from me." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, do not permit yourself to become down-hearted, Mr. Parker," Don +Mike assured him whimsically. "I cannot see one chance in a million +where you are going to lose it." +</P> + +<P> +"Thank you for the heartening effect of those words, Mr. Farrel." +</P> + +<P> +"I think I understand the reason underlying all this speed, Mr. Parker. +You and Okada feared that next year the people of this state will so +amend their faulty anti-alien land law of 1913 that it will be +impossible for any Oriental to own or lease California land then. So +you proceeded with your improvements during the redemption period, +confident that the ranch would never be redeemed, in order that you +might be free to deal with Okada before the new law went into effect. +Okada would not deal with you until he was assured the water could be +gotten on the land." +</P> + +<P> +"Pa's thrown out at first base!" Mrs. Parker shrilled. "Poor old pa!" +</P> + +<P> +Don Mike's somber black eyes flashed with mirth. "I understand now why +you leased the hacienda and why that twelve-thousand-dollar board bill +hurt," he murmured. He turned to Kay and her mother. "Why the poor +unfortunate man is forced to remain at the Rancho Palomar in order to +protect his bet." His thick black brows lifted piously. "Don't cheer, +boys," he cried tragically; "the poor devil is going fast now! Is +there anybody present who remembers a prayer or who can sing a hymn?" +</P> + +<P> +Kay's adorable face twitched as she suppressed a chuckle at her +father's expense, but now that Parker was being assailed by all three, +his loyal wife decided to protect him. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, Johnny's a shrewd gambler after all," she declared. "If you do +not redeem the ranch, he will get odds of two and a half to one on his +million-dollar bet and clean up in a year. With water on the lands of +the San Gregorio, Okada's people will pay five hundred dollars an acre +cash for the fifty thousand acres." +</P> + +<P> +"I grant you that, Mrs. Parker, but in the meantime he will have +increased tremendously the value of all of my land in the San Gregorio +valley, and what is to prevent me, nine months from now, from floating +a new loan rather handily, by reason of that increased valuation, +paying off Mr. Parker's mortgage and garnering for myself that two and +a half million dollars' profit you speak of?" +</P> + +<P> +"I fear you will have to excuse us from relishing the prospect of that +joke, Don Mike," Kay murmured. +</P> + +<P> +"Work on that irrigation project will cease on Saturday evening, Mr. +Farrel," Parker assured his host. +</P> + +<P> +Nevertheless, Farrel observed that his manner belied his words; +obviously he was ill at ease. For a moment, the glances of the two men +met; swift though that visual contact was, each read in the other's +glance an unfaltering decision. There would be no surrender. +</P> + +<P> +The gay mood into which Mrs. Parker's humorous sallies had thrown +Farrel relaxed; there came back to him the memory of some graves in the +valley, and his dark, strong face was somber again. Of a sudden, +despite his victory of the morning, he felt old for all his +twenty-eight years—old and sad and embittered, lonely, futile and +helpless. +</P> + +<P> +The girl, watching him closely, saw the light die out in his face, saw +the shadows come, as when a thunder-cloud passes between the sun and a +smiling valley. His chin dropped a little on his breast, and for +perhaps ten seconds he was silent; by the far-away gleam in his eyes, +Kay knew he was seeing visions, and that they were not happy ones. +</P> + +<P> +Instinctively her hand crept round the corner of the table and touched +his arm lightly. Her action was the result of impulse; almost as soon +as she had touched him, she withdrew her hand in confusion. +</P> + +<P> +But her mother had noticed the movement, and a swift glance toward her +husband drew from him the briefest of nods, the most imperceptible of +shrugs. +</P> + +<P> +"Come, Johnny dear," she urged, and her voice had lost its accustomed +shrillness now; "let us go forth and see what has happened to the +Little Old Man of the Spuds." +</P> + +<P> +He followed her outside obediently, and arm in arm they walked around +the patio toward the rear gate. +</P> + +<P> +"Hello!" he murmured suddenly, and, with a firm hand under her chin, he +tilted her handsome face upward. There were tears in her eyes. "What +now?" he demanded tenderly. "How come, old girl?" +</P> + +<P> +"Nothing, John, I'm just an old fool—laughing when I'm not weeping and +weeping when I ought to be laughing." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap18"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +XVIII +</H3> + + +<P> +Don Mike's assumption that Pablo would seek balm for his injured +feelings at the expense of the potato baron was one born of a very +intimate knowledge of the mental processes of Pablo and those of his +breed. And Pablo, on that fateful day, did not disappoint his master's +expectations. Old he was, and stiff and creaky of joint, but what he +lacked in physical prowess he possessed in guile. Forbidden to follow +his natural inclination, which was to stab the potato baron frequently +and fatally with a businesslike dirk which was never absent from his +person except when he slept, Pablo had recourse to another artifice of +his peculiar calling—to wit, the rawhide riata. +</P> + +<P> +As Okada emerged from the dining-room into the patio, Pablo entered +from the rear gate, riata in hand; as the Japanese crossed the garden +to his room in the opposite wing of the hacienda, Pablo made a deft +little cast and dropped his loop neatly over the potato baron's body, +pinioning the latter's arms securely to his sides. Keeping a stiff +strain on the riata, Pablo drew his victim swiftly toward the porch, +round an upright of which he had taken a hitch; in a surprisingly brief +period, despite the Jap's frantic efforts to release himself, Pablo had +his man lashed firmly to the porch column, whereupon he proceeded to +flog his prisoner with a heavy quirt which, throughout the operation, +had dangled from his left wrist. With each blow, old Pablo tossed a +pleasantry at his victim, who took the dreadful scourging without an +outcry, never ceasing a dogged effort to twist loose from his bonds +until his straining and flinching loosed the ancient rusty nails at top +and bottom of the upright, and, with a crash, the Oriental fell +headlong backward on the porch, as a tree falls. Thereupon, Pablo +kicked him half a dozen times for good measure, and proceeded to roll +him over and over along the porch toward his room. Eventually this +procedure unwound him from the riata; Pablo then removed the loop, and +Okada staggered into his room and fell, half fainting, on his bed. +</P> + +<P> +His honor now quite clean, Pablo departed from the patio. He had been +less than five minutes on his mission of vengeance, and when John +Parker and his wife came out of the dining-room, the sight of the +imperturbable old majordomo unconcernedly coiling his "twine" roused in +them no apprehension as to the punishment that had overtaken Okada. +</P> + +<P> +Having finished their luncheon—a singularly pleasant +<I>tête-à-tête</I>—Don Mike and Kay joined Mr. and Mrs. Parker. At once +Farrel's glance marked the absence of the porch column. +</P> + +<P> +"I declare," he announced, with mock seriousness, "a portion of my +veranda has given way. I wonder if a man could have been tied do it. +I heard a crash, and at the time it occurred to me that it was a heavy +crash—heavier than the weight of that old porch column would produce. +Mr. Parker, may I suggest that you investigate the physical condition +of our Japanese friend? He is doubtless in his room." +</P> + +<P> +Parker flashed his host a quick glance, almost of resentment, and went +to Okada's room. When he returned, he said soberly: +</P> + +<P> +"Pablo has beaten the little fellow into a pitiable condition. He tied +him to that porch column and flogged him with a quirt. While I cannot +defend Okada's action in releasing Loustalot, nevertheless, Mr. +Farrel—" Don Mike's black eyes burned like live coals. +"Nevertheless—I—well———" Parker hesitated. +</P> + +<P> +Don Mike's lips were drawn a trifle in the ghost of a smile that was +not good to see. +</P> + +<P> +"I think, sir," he said softly, distinctly, and with chill suavity, +"that Mr. Okada might be grateful for the services of the excellent +Murray, if the potato baron is, as I shrewdly suspect he will be, +leaving within five minutes." +</P> + +<P> +"Good Heavens, man, I believe it will be an hour before he can walk!" +</P> + +<P> +Farrel glanced critically at his wrist-watch and seemed to ponder this. +</P> + +<P> +"I fear five minutes is all I can permit, sir," he replied. "If he +should be unable to walk from his room, Murray, who is the soul of +thoughtfulness, will doubtless assist him to the waiting automobile." +</P> + +<P> +Five minutes later, the potato baron and the potato baron's suitcase +were lifted into the tonneau of the car by Murray and William. From +over by the blacksmith shop, Don Mike saw Parker bid his Japanese +confrère adieu, and as the car dipped below the mesa, Parker came over +and joined them. +</P> + +<P> +"Thought you were going in to El Toro this afternoon," the young man +suggested. +</P> + +<P> +"I had planned to, but changed my mind after beholding that Nipponese +ruin. To have driven to El Toro with him would have broken my heart." +</P> + +<P> +"Never mind, pa," Mrs. Parker consoled him; "you'll have your day in +court, will you not?" +</P> + +<P> +"I think he's going to have several of them," Don Mike predicted +maliciously, and immediately withdrew the sting from his words by +placing his hand in friendly fashion on Parker's shoulder and shaking +him playfully. "In the interim, however," he continued, "now that our +unwelcome guests have departed and peace has been reestablished on El +Palomar (for I hear Pablo whistling 'La Paloma' in the distance), what +reason, if any, exists why we shouldn't start right now to get some fun +out of life? I've had a wonderful forenoon at your expense, so I want +you and the ladies to have a wonderful afternoon at mine." He glanced +alertly from one to the other, questioningly. +</P> + +<P> +"I wonder if the horses have recovered from their furious chase of this +morning," Kay ventured. +</P> + +<P> +"Of course. That was merely an exercise gallop. How would you all +like to come for a ride with me over to the Agua Caliente basin?" +</P> + +<P> +"Why the Agua Caliente basin?" Parker queried casually. "That's quite +a distance from here, is it not?" +</P> + +<P> +"About seven miles—fourteen over and back. Suppose William follows +with the car after his return from El Toro. You can then ride back +with him, and I'll bring the horses home. I realize fourteen miles is +too great a distance for inexperienced riders." +</P> + +<P> +"Isn't that going to considerable trouble?" Parker suggested suavely. +"Suppose we ride down the valley. I prefer flat land to rolling +country when I ride." +</P> + +<P> +"No game down that way," Farrel explained patiently. "We'll take the +hounds and put something up a tree over Caliente Basin way before we +get back. Besides, I have a great curiosity to inspect the dam you're +building and the artesian wells you're drilling over in that country." +</P> + +<P> +"Confound you, Farrel! You realized the possibilities of that basin, +then?" +</P> + +<P> +"Years ago. The basin comes to a bottle-neck between two high hills; +all you have to do is dam that narrow gorge, and when the Rio San +Gregorio is up and brimming in freshet time, you'll have a lake a +hundred feet deep, a mile wide, and five miles long before you know it. +Did you ever consider the possibility of leading a ditch from the lake +thus formed along the shoulder of El Palomar, that +forty-five-hundred-foot peak for which the ranch is named, and giving +it a sixty-five-per-cent. nine-hundred-foot drop to a snug little +power-station at the base of the mountain. You could develop thirty or +forty thousand horse-power very easily and sell it easier; after your +water had passed through the penstock and delivered its power, you +could run it off through a lateral to the main ditch down the San +Gregorio and sell it to your Japanese farmers for irrigation." +</P> + +<P> +"By Jupiter, I believe you would have done something with this ranch if +you had had the backing, Farrel!" +</P> + +<P> +"Never speculated very hard on securing the backing," Don Mike +admitted, with a frank grin. "We always lived each day as if it were +the last, you know. But over in Siberia, far removed from all my +easy-going associations, both inherited and acquired, I commenced +dreaming of possibilities in the Agua Caliente basin." +</P> + +<P> +"Well then, since you insist, let's go over there and have your +curiosity satiated," Parker agreed, with the best grace possible. +</P> + +<A NAME="img-182"></A> +<CENTER> +<a href="images/img-182.jpg"> +<IMG SRC="images/img-182.jpg" width="90%" border=2 +ALT="Here amidst the golden romance of the old mission, the girl suddenly understood Don Mike."> +</a> +<H4> +[Illustration: Here amidst the golden romance of the old mission, <BR> +the girl suddenly understood Don Mike.] +</H4> +</CENTER> + +<P> +While the Parkers returned to the hacienda to change into their +riding-clothes, Miguel Farrel strolled over to the corral where Pablo +Artelan, wearing upon his leathery countenance the closest imitation of +a smile that had ever lighted that dark expanse, joined him and, with +Farrel, leaned over the corral fence and gazed at the horses within. +For a long time, neither spoke; then, while his glance still appraised +the horses, Don Mike stiffened a thumb and drove it with considerable +force into Pablo's ancient ribs. Carolina, engaged in hanging out the +Parker wash in the yard of her <I>casa</I>, observed Don Mike bestow this +infrequent accolade of approbation and affection, and her heart swelled +with pride. Ah, yes; it was good to have the child back on the rancho +again. +</P> + +<P> +Carolina and Pablo had never heard that the ravens fed Elijah; they had +never heard of Elijah. Nevertheless, if they had, they would not have +envied him the friendship of those divinely directed birds, for the +Farrels had always fed Pablo and Carolina and their numerous brood, now +raised and scattered over the countryside. At sight of that prod in +the ribs, Carolina dismissed forever a worry that had troubled her +vaguely during the period between old Don Miguel's death and the return +of young Don Miguel—the fear that a lifetime of ease and plenty had +ended. Presently, she lifted a falsetto voice in a Spanish love-song +two centuries old. +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> + I await the morrow, Niña mia,<BR> + I await the morrow, all through the night,<BR> + For the entrancing music and dancing<BR> + With thee, my song-bird, my heart's delight.<BR> + Come dance, my Niña, in thy mantilla,<BR> + Think of our love and do not say no;<BR> + Hasten then my treasure, grant me this pleasure,<BR> + Dance then tomorrow the bolero! +</P> + +<P> +Over at the corral, Pablo rolled a cigarette, lighted it, and permitted +a thin film of smoke to trickle through his nostrils. He, too, was +content. +</P> + +<P> +"Carolina," he remarked presently, in English, "is happy to beat hell." +</P> + +<P> +"I haven't any right to be, but, for some unknown reason, I'm feeling +gay myself," his master replied. +</P> + +<P> +He started toward the harness-room to get the saddle for Panchito, and +Pablo lingered a moment at the fence, gazing after him curiously. +Could it be possible that Don Miguel José Maria Federico Noriaga Farrel +had, while sojourning in the cold land of the bewhiskered men, lost a +modicum of that particularity with women which had formerly +distinguished him in the eyes of his humble retainers? +</P> + +<P> +"Damn my soul eef I don't know sometheeng!" Pablo muttered, and +followed for a saddle for the gray gelding. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap19"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +XIX +</H3> + + +<P> +When the Parkers emerged from the hacienda, they found Don Mike and Pablo +holding the horses and waiting for them. Kay wore a beautifully tailored +riding-habit of dark unfinished material, shot with a faint admixture of +gray; her boots were of shining black undressed leather, and she wore a +pair of little silver-mounted spurs, the sight of which caused Pablo to +exchange sage winks with his master. Her white-piqué stock was fastened +by an exquisite little cameo stick-pin; from under the brim of a +black-beaver sailor-hat, set well down on her head, her wistful brown +eyes looked up at Don Mike, and caught the quick glance of approval with +which he appraised her, before turning to her mother. +</P> + +<P> +"The black mare for you, Mrs. Parker," he suggested. "She's a regular +old sweetheart and single-foots beautifully. I think you'll find that +stock-saddle a far more comfortable seat than the saddle Miss Kay is +using." +</P> + +<P> +"I know I'm not as light and graceful as I used to be, Mike," the amiable +soul assured him, "but it irks me to have men notice it. You <I>might</I> +have given me an opportunity to decline Kay's saddle. There is such a +thing as being too thoughtful, you know." +</P> + +<P> +"Mother!" Kay cried reproachfully. +</P> + +<P> +Don Mike blushed, even while he smiled his pleasure at the lady's +badinage. She observed this. +</P> + +<P> +"You're a nice boy, Michael," she murmured, for his ear alone. "Why, you +old-fashioned young rascal!"—as Don Mike stooped and held out his hand. +She placed her left foot in it and was lifted lightly into the saddle. +When he had adjusted the stirrups to fit her, he turned to aid Kay, only +to discover that the gallant Panchito had already performed the honors +for that young lady by squatting until she could reach the stirrup +without difficulty. +</P> + +<P> +Parker rode the gray horse, and Farrel had appropriated a pinto cow pony +that Pablo used when line-riding. +</P> + +<P> +With the hounds questing ahead of them, the four jogged up the San +Gregorio, Don Mike leading the way, with Kay riding beside him. From +time to time she stole a sidelong glance at him, riding with his chin on +his breast, apparently oblivious of her presence. She knew that he was +not in a mood to be entertaining to-day, to be a carefree squire of +dames; his mind was busy grappling with problems that threatened not only +him but everything in life that he held to be worth while. +</P> + +<P> +"Do we go through that gate?" the girl queried, pointing to a five-rail +gate in a wire fence that straggled across the valleys and up the +hillside. +</P> + +<P> +He nodded. +</P> + +<P> +"Of course you do not have to go through it," he teased her. "Panchito +can go over it. Pie for him. About five feet and a half." +</P> + +<P> +"Enough for all practical purposes," she replied, and touched her +ridiculous little spurs to the animal's flank, took a firm grip on the +reins with both hands, and sat down firmly in the saddle. "All right, +boy!" she cried, and, at the invitation, Panchito pricked up his ears and +broke into an easy canter, gradually increasing his speed and taking the +gate apparently without effort. Don Mike watched to see the girl rise +abruptly in her seat as the horse came down on the other side of the +gate. But no! She was still sitting down in the saddle, her little +hands resting lightly on the horse's neck; and while Farrel watched her +in downright admiration and her mother sat, white and speechless on the +black mare, Kay galloped ahead a hundred yards, turned, and came back +over the gate again. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, isn't he a darling?" she cried. "He pulls his feet up under him +like a dog, when he takes off. I want to take him over a seven-foot +hurdle. He can do it with yours truly up. Let's build a seven-foot +hurdle to-morrow and try him out." +</P> + +<P> +"Fine! We'll build it," Don Mike declared enthusiastically, and Parker, +watching his wife's frightened face, threw back his head and laughed. +</P> + +<P> +"You are encouraging my daughter to kill herself," the older woman +charged Farrel. "Kay, you tomboy, do not jump that gate again! Suppose +that horse should stumble and throw you." +</P> + +<P> +"Nonsense, mother. That's mere old hop-Scotch for Panchito. One doesn't +get a jumping-jack to ride every day, and all I've ever done has been to +pussyfoot through Central Park." +</P> + +<P> +"Do you mean to tell me you've never taken a hurdle before?" Don Mike +was scandalized. She nodded. +</P> + +<P> +"She'll do," Parker assured him proudly. +</P> + +<P> +Farrel confirmed this verdict with a nod and opened the gate. They rode +through. Kay waited for him to close the gate. He saw that she had +been, captivated by Panchito, and as their glances met, his smile was a +reflection of hers—a smile thoroughly and childishly happy. +</P> + +<P> +"If you'd only sell him to me, Don Mike," she pleaded. "I'll give you a +ruinous price for him." +</P> + +<P> +"He is not for sale, Miss Kay." +</P> + +<P> +"But you were going to give him away to your late battery commander!" +</P> + +<P> +He held up his right hand with the red scar on the back of it, but made +no further reply. +</P> + +<P> +"Why will you not sell him to me?" she pleaded. "I want him so." +</P> + +<P> +"I love him," he answered at that, "and I could only part with him—for +love. Some day, I may give him to somebody worth while, but for the +present I think I shall be selfish and continue to own him. He's a big, +powerful animal, and if he can carry weight in a long race, he's fast +enough to make me some money." +</P> + +<P> +"Let me ride him in the try-out," she pleaded. "I weigh just a hundred +and twenty." +</P> + +<P> +"Very well. To-morrow I'll hitch up a work-team, and disk the heart out +of our old race-track— Oh, yes; we have such a thing"—in reply to her +lifted brows. "My grandfather Mike induced my great-grandfather Noriaga +to build it way back in the 'Forties. The Indians and <I>vaqueros</I> used to +run scrub races in those days—in fact, it was their main pastime." +</P> + +<P> +"Where is this old race-track?" +</P> + +<P> +"Down in the valley. A fringe of oaks hides it. It's grass-grown and it +hasn't been used in twenty-five years, except when the Indians in this +part of the country foregather in the valley occasionally and pull off +some scrub races." +</P> + +<P> +"How soon can we put it in commission?" she demanded eagerly, +</P> + +<P> +"I'll disk it to-morrow. The ground is soft now, after this recent rain. +Then I'll harrow it well and run a culti-packer over it—well, by the end +of the week it ought to be a fairly fast track." +</P> + +<P> +"Goody! We'll go in to El Toro to-morrow and I'll wire to San Francisco +for a stop-watch. May I sprint Panchito a little across that meadow?" +</P> + +<P> +"Wait a moment, Miss Kay. We shall have something to sprint after in a +few minutes, I think." As the hounds gave tongue in a path of willows +they had been investigating far to the right, Don Mike pulled up his +horse and listened. "Hot trail," he informed her. "They'll all be +babbling in a moment." +</P> + +<P> +He was right. +</P> + +<P> +"If it's a coyote, he'll sneak up the wash of the river," he informed the +girl, "but if it's a cat, he'll cut through that open space to tree in +the oaks beyond—Ha! There goes a mountain-lion. After him!" +</P> + +<P> +His alert pony went from a halt to a gallop, following a long, lithe +tawny animal that loped easily into view, coming from the distant willow +thicket. In an instant, Kay was beside him. +</P> + +<P> +"Head him off," he commanded curtly. "This ruin of Pablo's is done in a +quarter-mile dash, but Panchito can outrun that cat without trying. +Don't be afraid of him. They're cowardly brutes. Get between him and +the oaks and turn him back to me. Ride him down! He'll dodge out of +your way." +</P> + +<P> +She saw that he was uncoiling his riata as he spoke, and divined his +purpose, as, with a cluck and a boot to Panchito, she thundered after the +big cat, her heart thumping with mingled fear and excitement. Evidently +this was an old game to Panchito, however, for he pinned his ears a +little and headed straight for the quarry. Seemingly he knew what was +expected of him, and had a personal interest in the affair, for as he +came up to the animal, he attempted to run the panther down. The animal +merely snarled and gave ground, while gradually Panchito "hazed" him +until the frightened creature was headed at right angles to the course he +had originally pursued. And now Don Mike, urging the pinto to top speed, +came racing up and cut him off. +</P> + +<P> +"Catch him; catch him!" Kay screamed excitedly. "Don't let him get +away!" She drove Panchito almost on top of the panther, and forced the +beast to stop suddenly and dodge toward the approaching Farrel. As +Panchito dashed by, Kay had a glimpse of Don Mike riding in, his looped +riata swinging in wide, slow concentric circles—casually, even. As she +brought Panchito round on his nimble heels, she saw Don Mike rise in his +stirrups and throw. +</P> + +<P> +Even as the loop left his hand, he appeared to have no doubt of the +outcome, for Kay saw him make a quick turn of his rope round the pommel +of his saddle, whirl at a right angle, and, with a whoop of pure, +unadulterated joy, go by her at top speed, dragging the panther behind +him. The loop had settled over the animal's body and been drawn taut +around his loins. +</P> + +<P> +Suddenly the pinto came to an abrupt pause, sliding on his haunches to +avoid a tiny arroyo, too wide for him to leap. The strain on the riata +was thus momentarily slackened, permitting the big cat to scramble to all +fours and turn to investigate this trap into which he had fallen. +Instantly he charged, spitting and open-mouthed, and, for some unknown +reason, Farrel led the screaming fury straight toward Kay and Panchito. +The cat realized this, also, for suddenly he decided that Panchito +offered the best opportunity to vent his rage, and changed his course +accordingly. Quick as he did so, Farrel whirled his pinto in the +opposite direction, with the result that the panther left the ground with +a jerk and was dragged through the air for six feet before striking +heavily upon his back. He was too dazed to struggle while Farrel dragged +him through the grass and halted under a lone sycamore. While the badly +shaken cat was struggling to his feet and swaying drunkenly, Farrel +passed the end of his riata over a limb, took a new hitch on his pommel, +and ran out, drawing the screaming, clawing animal off the ground until +he swung, head down, the ripping chisels on his front paws tearing the +grass up in great tufts. +</P> + +<P> +The pinto, a trained roping horse, stood, blown and panting, his feet +braced, keeping the rope taut while Farrel dismounted and casually +strolled back to the tree. He broke off a small twig and waited, while +the hounds, belling lustily, came nosing across the meadow. Kay rode up, +as the dogs, catching sight of the helpless cat, quickened their speed to +close in; she heard Farrel shout to them and saw him lay about him with +the twig, beating the eager animals back from their still dangerous prey. +</P> + +<P> +Mr. and Mrs. Parker had, in the meantime, galloped up and stood by, +interested spectators, while Don Mike searched round until he found a +hard, thick, dry, broken limb from the sycamore. +</P> + +<P> +"This certainly is my day for making money," he announced gaily. "Here's +where I put thirty dollars toward that three-hundred-thousand-dollar +mortgage." He stepped up to the lion and stunned it with a blow over the +head, after which he removed the riata from the creature's loins, slipped +the noose round the cat's neck, and hoisted the unconscious brute clear +of the ground. +</P> + +<P> +"Now then," he announced cheerfully, "we'll just leave this fellow to +contemplate the result of a life of shame. He shall hang by the neck +until he is dead—dead—dead! We'll pick him up on our way back, and +to-night I'll skin him. Fall in, my squad! On our way." +</P> + +<P> +"Do you do that sort of thing very often, Mr. Farrel?" Parker queried. +</P> + +<P> +"Life is a bit dull out here, sir. Any time the dogs put up a panther in +the open, we try to rope him and have a little fun. This is the first +one I have roped alone, however. I always did want to rope a panther all +by myself. Ordinarily, I would not have told Miss Kay to head that cat +in toward me, but, then, she didn't flunk the gate back yonder, and I had +a great curiosity to see if she'd flunk the cat. She didn't and"—he +turned toward her with beaming, prideful eyes—"if I were out of debt, I +wouldn't trade my friendship with a girl as game as you, Kay, for the +entire San Gregorio valley. You're a trump." +</P> + +<P> +"You're rather a Nervy Nat yourself, aren't you?" her droll mother struck +in. "As a Christian martyr, you would have had the Colosseum to +yourself; every tiger and lion in Rome would have taken to the tall +timber when you came on." +</P> + +<P> +As he rode ahead, chuckling, to join her daughter, Farrel knew that at +all events he had earned the approval of the influential member of the +Parker family. Mrs. Parker, on her part, was far more excited than her +colloquial humor indicated. +</P> + +<P> +"John," she whispered, "did you notice it?" +</P> + +<P> +"Notice what?" +</P> + +<P> +"I don't know why I continue to live with you—you're so dull! In his +excitement, he just called her 'Kay.' Last night, when they met, she was +'Miss Parker.' At noon to-day, she was 'Miss Kay' and now she's plain +'Kay.'" A cloud crossed his brow, but he made no answer, so, woman-like, +she pressed for one. "Suppose our daughter should fall in love with this +young man?" +</P> + +<P> +"That would be more embarrassing than ever, from a business point of +view," he admitted, "and the Lord knows this fellow has me worried enough +already. He's no mean antagonist." +</P> + +<P> +"That's what the panther probably thought, John." +</P> + +<P> +"His decoration, and that stunt—dazzling to the average girl," he +muttered. +</P> + +<P> +"In addition to his good looks, exquisite manners, and, I am quite +certain, very high sense of honor and lofty ideals," she supplemented. +</P> + +<P> +"In that event, it is more than probable that a consideration of his +desperate financial strait will preclude his indicating any lively +interest in Kay." Parker glanced anxiously at his wife, as if seeking in +her face confirmation of a disturbing suspicion. "At least, that would +be in consonance with the high sense of honor and lofty ideals with which +you credit him. However, we must remember that he has a dash of Latin +blood, and my experience has been that not infrequently the Latinos high +sense of honor and lofty idealism are confined to lip-service only. I +wonder if he'd be above using Kay as a gun to point at my head." +</P> + +<P> +"I'm quite certain that he would, John. Even if he should become +interested in her for her own sake, he would, of course, realize that the +genuineness of his feeling would be open to suspicion by—well, most +people, who comprehend his position—and I doubt very much if, under +these circumstances, he will permit himself to become interested in her." +</P> + +<P> +"He may not be able to help himself. Kay gets them all winging." +</P> + +<P> +"Even so, he will not so far forget his ancestral pride as to admit it, +or even give the slightest intimation of it." +</P> + +<P> +"He is a prideful sort of chap. I noticed that. Still, he's not a prig." +</P> + +<P> +"He has pride of race, John. Pride of ancestry, pride of tradition, +pride of an ancient, undisputed leadership in his own community. He has +been raised to know that he is not vulgar or stupid or plebeian; his +character has been very carefully cultivated and developed." +</P> + +<P> +He edged his horse close to hers. +</P> + +<P> +"Look here, my dear," he queried; "what brought the tears to your eyes at +luncheon to-day?" +</P> + +<P> +"There was a moment, John, when the shadow of a near-break came over his +face. Kay and I both saw it. He looked wistful and lonely and beaten, +and dropped his head like a tired horse, and her heart, her very soul, +went out to him. I saw her hand go out to him, too; she touched his arm +for an instant and then, realizing, she withdrew it. And then I knew!" +</P> + +<P> +"Knew what?" +</P> + +<P> +"That our little daughter, who has been used to queening it over every +man of her acquaintance, is going to batter her heart out against the +pride of Palomar." +</P> + +<P> +"You mean———" +</P> + +<P> +"She loves him. She doesn't know it yet, but I do. Oh, John, I'm old +and wise. I know! If Miguel Farrel were of a piece with the young men +she has always met, I wouldn't worry. But he's so absolutely +different—so natural, so free from that atrocious habit of never being +able to disassociate self from the little, graceful courtesies young men +show women. He's wholesome, free from ego, from that intolerable air of +proprietorship, of masculine superiority and cocksureness that seems so +inseparable from the young men in her set." +</P> + +<P> +"I agree with you, my dear. Many a time I have itched to grasp the +jaw-bone of an ass and spoil a couple of dozen of those young pups with +their story-book notions of life." +</P> + +<P> +"Now, that Don Mike," she continued critically, "is thoughtful of and +very deferential to those to whom deference is due, which characteristic, +coupled with the fact that he is, in a certain sense, a most pathetic +figure at this time, is bound to make a profound impression on any girl +of ready sympathy. And pity is akin to love." +</P> + +<P> +"I see," Parker nodded sagely. "Then you think he'll go down to defeat +with his mouth shut?" +</P> + +<P> +"I'm certain of it, John." +</P> + +<P> +"On the other hand, if he should succeed in sending me down to defeat, +thereby regaining his lost place in the sun, he might—er—" +</P> + +<P> +"Let us be practical, John. Let us call a spade a spade. If he regains +the Rancho Palomar, his thoughts will inevitably turn to the subject of a +mistress for that old hacienda. He has pride of race, I tell you, and he +would be less than human if he could contemplate himself as the last of +that race. +</P> + +<P> +"John, he did not capture that panther alive a few moments ago merely to +be spectacular. His underlying reason was the thirty-dollar bounty on +the pelt and the salvation of his cattle. And he did not capture that +Basque this morning and extort justice, long-delayed, with any thought +that by so doing he was saving his principality for a stranger. He will +not fight you to a finish for that." +</P> + +<P> +"What a philosopher you're getting to be, my dear!" he parried +ironically. And, after a pause, "Well, I see very clearly that if your +predictions come to pass, I shall be as popular in certain circles as the +proverbial wet dog." +</P> + +<P> +Her roguish eyes appraised him. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, John; you're totally surrounded now. I suppose, when you realize +the enormity of the odds against you, you'll do the decent thing +and———" +</P> + +<P> +"Renew his mortgage? Not in a million years!" Parker's voice carried a +strident note of finality, of purpose inflexible, and he thumped the +pommel of his saddle thrice in emphasis. He was a man who, although +normally kind and amiable, nevertheless reserved these qualities for use +under conditions not connected with the serious business of profiting by +another's loss. Quite early in life he had learned to say "No." He +preferred to say it kindly and amiably, but none the less forcibly; some +men had known him to say it in a manner singularly reminiscent of the +low, admonitory growl of a fierce old dog. +</P> + +<P> +"But, John dear, why are we accumulating all this wealth? Is not Kay our +sole heir? Is not———" +</P> + +<P> +"Do not threaten me with Kay," he interrupted irritably. "I play my game +according to the time-honored rules of that game. I do not ask for +quarter, and I shall not give it. I'm going to do all in my power to +acquire the Rancho Palomar under that mortgage I hold—and I hope that +young man gives me a bully fight. That will make the operation all the +more interesting. +</P> + +<P> +"My dear, the continuous giving of one more chance to the Farrels has +proved their undoing. They first mortgaged part of the ranch in 1870; +when the mortgage fell due, they executed a new note plus the accrued +interest and mortgaged more of the ranch. Frequently they paid the +interest and twice they paid half the principal, bidding for one more +chance and getting it. And all these years they have lived like feudal +barons on their principal, living for to-day, reckless of to-morrow. +Theirs has been the history of practically all of the old California +families. I am convinced it would be no kindness to Don Miguel to give +him another chance now; his Spanish blood would lull him to ease and +forgetfulness; he would tell himself he would pay the mortgage <I>mañana</I>. +By giving him another chance, I would merely remove his incentive to +hustle and make good." +</P> + +<P> +"But it seems so cruel, John, to take such a practical view of the +situation. He cannot understand your point of view and he will regard +you as another Shylock." +</P> + +<P> +"Doubtless," he replied; "nevertheless, if we are ever forced to regard +him as a prospective son-in-law, it will be comforting to know that even +if he lost, he made me extend myself. He is a man and a gentleman, and I +like him. He won me in the first minute of our acquaintance. That is +why I decided to stand pat and see what he would do." Parker leaned over +and laid his hand on that of his wife. "I will not play the bully's +part, Kate," he promised her. "If he is worth a chance he will get it, +but I am not a human Christmas tree. He will have to earn it." After a +silence of several seconds he added, "Please God he will whip me yet. +His head is bloody but unbowed. It would be terrible to spoil him." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap20"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +XX +</H3> + + +<P> +Miguel Farrel pulled up his pinto on the brow of a hill which, along +the Atlantic seaboard, would have received credit for being a mountain, +and gazed down into the Agua Caliente basin. Half a mile to his right, +the slope dipped into a little saddle and then climbed abruptly to the +shoulder of El Palomar, the highest peak in San Marcos County. The +saddle was less than a hundred yards wide, and through the middle of it +a deep arroyo had been eroded by the Rio San Gregorio tumbling down +from the hills during the rainy season. This was the only outlet to +the Agua Caliente basin, and Don Mike saw at a glance that Parker's +engineers had discovered this, for squarely in the outlet a dozen +two-horse teams were working, scraping out the foundation for the huge +concrete dam for which Parker had contracted. Up the side of El +Palomar peak, something that resembled a great black snake had been +stretched, and Farrel nodded approvingly as he observed it. +</P> + +<P> +"Good idea, that, to lay a half-mile of twelve-inch steel pipe up to +that limestone deposit," he remarked to Parker, who had reined his +horse beside Don Mike's. "Only way to run your crushed rock down to +the concrete mixer at the dam-site. You'll save a heap of money on +delivering the rock, at any rate. Who's your contractor, Mr. Parker?" +</P> + +<P> +"A man named Conway." +</P> + +<P> +"Old Bill Conway, of Santa Barbara?" +</P> + +<P> +"The same, I believe," Parker replied, without interest. +</P> + +<P> +"Great old chap, Bill! One of my father's best friends, although he +was twenty years younger than dad. He must feel at home on the Rancho +Palomar." +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. Parker could not refrain from asking why. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, ever since Bill Conway was big enough to throw a leg over a +horse and hold a gun to his shoulder, he's been shooting deer and quail +and coursing coyotes on this ranch. Whenever he felt the down-hill +drag, he invited himself up to visit us. Hello! Why, I believe the +old horse-thief is down there now; at least that's his automobile. I'd +know that ruin anywhere. He bought it in 1906, and swears he's going +to wear it out if it takes a lifetime. Let's go down and see what +they're up to there. Come on, folks!" And, without waiting to see +whether or not he was followed, he urged the pinto over the crest and +rode down the hillside at top speed, whooping like a wild Indian to +attract the attention of Bill Conway. In a shower of weeds and gravel +the pinto slid on his hind quarters down over the cut-bank where the +grading operations had bitten into the hillside, and landed with a +grunt among the teams and scrapers. +</P> + +<P> +"Bill Conway! Front and center!" yelled the master of Palomar. +</P> + +<P> +"Here! What's the row?" a man shouted, and, from a temporary shack +office a hundred yards away, a man stepped out. +</P> + +<P> +"What do you mean by cutting into my dam-site without my permission?" +Farrel yelled and drove straight at the contractor. "Hey, there, old +settler! Mike Farrel, alive and kicking!" He left the saddle while +the pinto was still at a gallop, landed on his feet in front of Bill +Conway and took that astounded old disciple of dump-wagon and scraper +in a bearlike embrace. +</P> + +<P> +"Miguel! You young scoundrel!" Conway yelled, and forthwith he beat +Farrel between the shoulder-blades with a horny old fist and cursed him +lovingly. +</P> + +<P> +"Cut out the profanity, Mr. Conway," Don Mike warned him. "Some ladies +are about due on the job." +</P> + +<P> +"When'd you light in the Palomar, boy? Gimme your hand. What +the—say, ain't it a pity the old man couldn't have lasted until you +got back? Ain't it, now, son?" +</P> + +<P> +"A very great pity, Mr. Conway. I got home last night." +</P> + +<P> +"Boy, I'm glad to see you. Say, you ran into surprises, didn't you?" +he added, lowering his voice confidentially. +</P> + +<P> +"Rather. But, then, so did the other fellow. In fact, sir, a very +pleasant time was had by all. By the way, I hope you're not deluding +yourself with the belief that I'm going to pay you for building this +dam." +</P> + +<P> +"By Judas priest," the alert old contractor roared, "you certainly do +file a bill of complications! I'll have to see Parker about this right +away—why, here he is now." +</P> + +<P> +The Parkers had followed more decorously than had Farrel; nevertheless, +they had arrived in more or less of a hurry. John Parker rode directly +to Conway and Farrel. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, Mr. Conway," he shouted pleasantly, "the lost sheep is found +again." +</P> + +<P> +"Whereat there is more rejoicing in San Marcos County than there will +be over the return of some other sheep—and a few goats—I know of. +How do you do, Mr. Parker?" Conway extended his hand, and, as Kay and +her mother rode up, Farrel begged their permission to present him to +them. Followed the usual commonplaces of introduction, which Farrel +presently interrupted. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, you confounded old ditch-digger! How about you?" +</P> + +<P> +"Still making little rocks out of big ones, son. Say, Mr. Parker, how +do we stack up on this contract, now that Little Boy Blue is back on +the Palomar, blowing his horn?" +</P> + +<P> +Parker strove gallantly to work up a cheerful grin. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, he's put a handful of emery dust in my bearings, confound him, Mr. +Conway! It begins to look as if I had leaped before looking." +</P> + +<P> +"Very reprehensible habit, Mr. Parker. Well—I'm getting so old and +worthless nowadays that I make it a point to look before I leap. Mike, +my son, do you happen to be underwriting this contract?" +</P> + +<P> +Don Mike looked serious. He pursed his lips, arched his brows, drew +some bills and small coins from his pocket, and carefully counted them. +</P> + +<P> +"The liquid assets of the present owner of that dirt you're making so +free with, Mr. Conway, total exactly sixty-seven dollars and nine +cents. And I never thought the day would come when a pair of old-time +Californians like us would stoop to counting copper pennies. Before I +joined the army, I used to give them away to the cholo children, and +when there were no youngsters handy to give the pennies to, I used to +throw them away." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," Bill Conway murmured sadly. "And I remember the roar that went +up from the old-timers five years ago when the Palace Hotel in San +Francisco reduced the price of three fingers of straight whisky from +twenty-five cents to fifteen. Boy, they're crowding us out." +</P> + +<P> +"Who's been doing most of the crowding in San Marcos County while I've +been away, Mr. Conway?" Farrel queried innocently. +</P> + +<P> +"Japs, my son. Say, they're comin' in here by the ship-load." +</P> + +<P> +"You don't tell me! Why, two years ago there wasn't a Jap in San +Marcos County with the exception of a couple of shoemakers and a +window-washing outfit in El Toro." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, those hombres aren't mending shoes or washing windows any more, +Miguel. They saved their money and now they're farming—garden-truck +mostly. There must be a thousand Japanese in the county now—all +farmers or farm-laborers. They're leasing and buying every acre of +fertile land they can get hold of." +</P> + +<P> +"Have they acquired much acreage?" +</P> + +<P> +"Saw a piece in the El Toro Sentinel last week to the effect that nine +thousand and twenty acres have been alienated to the Japs up to the +first of the year. Nearly all the white men have left La Questa valley +since the Japs discovered they could raise wonderful winter celery +there." +</P> + +<P> +"But where do these Japanese farmers come from, Mr. Conway?" Parker +inquired. "They do not come from Japan because, under the gentlemen's +agreement, Japan restricts emigration of her coolie classes." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, now," Bill Conway began judicially. "I'll give Japan the +benefit of any doubts I have as to the sincerity with which she +enforces this gentlemen's agreement. The fact remains, however, that +she does not restrict emigration to Mexico, and, unfortunately, we have +an international boundary a couple of thousand miles long and +stretching through a sparsely settled, brushy country. To guard our +southern boundary in such an efficient manner that no Jap could +possibly secure illegal entry to the United States via the line, we +would have to have sentries scattered at hundred-yard intervals and +closer than that on dark nights. The entire standing army of the +United States would be required for the job. In addition to the +handicap of this unprotected boundary, we have a fifteen-hundred-mile +coast-line absolutely unguarded. Japanese fishermen bring their +nationals up from the Mexican coast in their trawlers and set them +ashore on the southern California coast. At certain times of the year, +any landlubber can land through the surf at low tide; in fact, +ownerless skiffs are picked up on the south-coast beaches right +regularly." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, you can't blame the poor devils for wanting to come to this +wonderful country, Mr. Conway. It holds for them opportunities far +greater than in their own land." +</P> + +<P> +"True, Mr. Parker. But their gain is our loss, and, as a matter of +common sense, I fail to see why we should accord equal opportunity to +an unwelcome visitor who enters our country secretly and illegally. I +grant you it would prove too expensive and annoying to make a firm +effort to stop this illegal immigration by preventive measures along +our international boundary and coast-line, but if we destroy the Jap's +opportunity for profit at our expense, we will eliminate the main +incentive for his secret and illegal entry, which entry is always very +expensive. I believe seven hundred and fifty dollars is the +market-price for smuggling Japs and Chinamen into the United States of +America." +</P> + +<P> +"But we should take steps to discover these immigrants after they +succeed in making entry———" +</P> + +<P> +"Rats!" the bluff old contractor interrupted. "How are we going to do +that under present conditions? The cry of the country is for economy +in governmental affairs, so Congress prunes the already woefully +inadequate appropriation for the Department of Labor and keeps our +force of immigration inspectors down to the absolute minimum. These +inspectors are always on the job; the few we have are splendid, loyal +servants of the government, and they prove it by catching Japs, +Chinamen, and Hindus every day in the week. But for every illegal +entrant they apprehend, ten escape and are never rounded up. Confound +them; they all look alike, anyhow! How are you going to distinguish +one Jap from another? +</P> + +<P> +"Furthermore, Mr. Parker, you must bear this fact in mind: The country +at large is not interested in the problem of Oriental immigration. It +hasn't thought about it; it doesn't know anything about it except what +the Japs have told it, and a Jap is the greatest natural-born liar and +purveyor of half-truths and sugar-coated misinformation this world has +known." +</P> + +<P> +"Easy, old timer!" Don Mike soothed, laying his hand on Conway's +shoulder. "Don't let your angry passions rise." +</P> + +<P> +Conway grinned. +</P> + +<P> +"I always fly into a rage when I get talking about Japs," he explained +deprecatingly to the ladies. "And it's such a helpless, hopeless rage. +There's no outlet for it. You see," he began all over again, "the +dratted Jap propagandist is so smart—he's so cunning that he has +capitalized the fact that California was the first state to protest +against the Japanese invasion. He has made the entire country believe +that this is a dirty little local squabble of no consequence to our +country at large. He keeps the attention of forty-seven states on +California while he quietly proceeds to colonize Oregon, Washington, +and parts of Utah. Lately he has passed blithely over the hot, +lava-strewn, and fairly non-irrigated state of Arizona to the more +fertile agricultural lands of Texas. And yet a couple of hundred prize +boobs in Congress talk sagely about an amicable settlement of the Jap +problem in California! When they want information, they consult the +Japanese ambassador!" +</P> + +<P> +"But why," Kay ventured to ask, "do the Japanese not acquire +agricultural lands in the Middle West? There are no restrictions in +those states in the matter of outright purchases of land, and surely +the soil is fertile enough to suit the most exacting Jap." +</P> + +<P> +"Ah, young lady," Bill Conway boomed. "I'm glad you asked me that +question. The Jap is a product of the temperate zone; he does not take +kindly to extremes of heat and cold. Unlike the white man he cannot +stand such extremes and function with efficiency. That's why the +extreme northern part of Japan, which is very cold in winter, is so +sparsely populated, although excellent agricultural land. Why freeze +to death up there when, by merely following the Japan Current as it +laves the west coast of North America from British Columbia down, one +can, in a pinch, dispense with an overcoat in January?" +</P> + +<P> +"Enough of this anti-Japanese propaganda of yours, Señor Conway," Don +Mike interrupted. "Our friends here haven't listened to anything else +since I got home last night. Mr. Parker, being quite ignorant of the +real issue, has, of course, fallen under the popular delusion; and I've +been trying my best to lead him to the mourner's bench, to convince him +that when he acquires the Rancho Palomar—which, by the way, will not +be for at least a year, now that I've turned up to nullify his judgment +of foreclosure—that it will be a far more patriotic action on his +part, even if less profitable, to colonize the San Gregorio with white +men instead of Japs. In fact, Mr. Parker, I wouldn't be surprised if +you should succeed in putting through a very profitable deal with the +state of California to colonize the valley with ex-soldiers." +</P> + +<P> +Old Bill Conway turned upon John Parker a smoldering gaze. +</P> + +<P> +"So I'm building a dam to irrigate a lot of Jap truck-gardens, am I?" +he rumbled. +</P> + +<P> +The sly, ingenious manner in which Miguel Farrel had so innocently +contrived to strew his already rough path with greater obstacles, +infuriated Parker, and for an instant he lost control of himself. +</P> + +<P> +"What do you care what it's for, Conway, provided you make your profit +out of the contract?" he demanded brusquely. +</P> + +<P> +"Ladies," the contractor replied, turning to Mrs. Parker and Kay, "I +trust you will pardon me for discussing business in your presence just +for a minute. Miguel, am I to understand that this ranch is still +Farrel property?" +</P> + +<P> +"You bet! And for a year to come." +</P> + +<P> +"Then I gather that Mr. Parker has contracted with me to build a dam on +your land and without your approval. Am I right?" +</P> + +<P> +"You are, Mr. Conway. I am not even contemplating giving my approval +to the removal of another scraper of dirt from that excavation." +</P> + +<P> +Conway faced Parker. +</P> + +<P> +"Am I to continue operations?" he demanded. "I have a +cost-plus-fifteen-per-cent. contract with you, Mr. Parker, and if you +are not going to be in position to go through with it, I want to know +it now." +</P> + +<P> +"In the absence of Mr. Farrel's permission, I have no alternative save +to ask you to suspend operations, Mr. Conway," Parker answered +bitterly. "I expect, of course, to settle with you for the abrupt +cancellation of the contract, but I believe we are both reasonable men +and that no difficulty will arise in that direction." +</P> + +<P> +"I'm naturally disappointed, Mr. Parker. I have a good crew and I like +to keep the men busy—-particularly when good men are as hard to +procure as they are nowadays. However, I realize your predicament, and +I never was a great hand to hit a man when he was down." +</P> + +<P> +"Thank you, Mr. Conway. If you will drop in at the ranch-house +to-morrow for dinner, we can put you up for the night, I dare say." He +glanced at Farrel, who nodded. "We can then take up the matter of +compensation for the cancelled contract." +</P> + +<P> +"In the meantime, then, I might as well call the job off and stop the +expense," Conway suggested. "We'll load up the equipment and pull out +in the morning." +</P> + +<P> +"Why be so precipitate, Mr. Conway?" Don Mike objected, almost +fiercely. "You always were the most easy-going, tender-hearted old +scout imaginable, and that's why you've never been able to afford a new +automobile. Now, I have a proposition to submit to you, Mr. Conway, +and inasmuch as it conflicts radically with Mr. Parker's interests, I +feel that common courtesy to him indicates that I should voice that +proposition in his presence. With the greatest good will in life +toward each other, nevertheless we are implacable opponents. Mr. +Parker has graciously spread, face up on the table for my inspection, +an extremely hard hand to beat; so now it's quite in order for me to +spring my little joker and try to take the odd trick. Mr. Conway, I +want you to do something for me. Not for my sake or the sake of my +dead father, who was a good friend of yours, but for the sake of this +state where we were both born and which we love because it is +symbolical of the United States. I want you to stand pat and refuse to +cancel this contract. Insist on going through with it and make Mr. +Parker pay for it. He can afford it, and he is good for it. He will +not repudiate a promise to pay while he has money in bank or securities +to hypothecate. He is absolutely responsible financially. He owns a +controlling interest in the First National Bank of El Toro, and he has +a three-hundred-thousand-dollar equity in this ranch in the shape of a +first mortgage ripe for foreclosure—you can levy on those assets if he +declines to go through with the contract. Force him to go through; +force him, old friend of my father and mine and enemy of all Japanese! +For God's sake, stand by me! I'm desperate, Mr. Conway———" +</P> + +<P> +"Call me 'Bill,' son," Conway interrupted gently. +</P> + +<P> +"You know what the Farrels have been up against always, Bill," Don Mike +pleaded. "That easy-going Spanish blood! But, Bill, I'm a throw-back. +By God, I am! Give me this chance—this God-given chance—and the +fifty-per-cent, Celtic strain in me and the twenty-five-per-cent. +Gaelic that came with my Galvez blood will save the San Gregorio to +white men! Give me the water, Bill; give me the water that will make +my valley bloom in the August heat, and then, with the tremendous +increase in the value of the land, I'll find somebody, some place, who +will trust me for three hundred thousand paltry dollars to give this +man and save my ranch. This is a white-man's country, and John Parker +is striving, for a handful of silver, to betray us and make it a yellow +paradise." +</P> + +<P> +His voice broke under the stress of his emotion; he gulped and the +tears welled to his eyes. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, Bill, for God's sake don't fail me!" he begged. "You're a +Californian! You've seen the first Japs come! Only fifteen years ago, +they were such a rare sight the little boys used to chase them and +throw rocks at them just to see them run in terror. But the little +boys do not throw rocks at them now, and they no longer run. They have +the courage of numbers and the prompt and forceful backing of a +powerful fraternity across the Pacific. You've seen them spread +gradually over the land—why, Bill, just think of the San Gregorio five +years hence—the San Gregorio where you and I have hunted quail since I +was ten years old. You gave me my first shot-gun———" +</P> + +<P> +"Sonny," said old Bill Conway gently, passing his arm across Farrel's +shoulders, "I wish to goodness you'd shut up! I haven't got three +hundred thousand dollars, nor a tenth of it. If I had it I'd give it +to you now and save argument. But I'll tell you what I have got, son, +and that's a sense of humor. It's kept me poor all my life, but if you +think it will make you rich you're welcome to it." He looked up, and +his glance met Kay's. "This chap's a limited edition," he informed her +gravely. "After the Lord printed one volume, he destroyed the plates. +Mr. Parker, sir—" He stepped up to John Parker and smote the latter +lightly on the breast—"Tag; you're it!" he announced pleasantly. +"I'll cancel this contract when you hand me a certified check; for +twenty-four billion, nine-hundred and eighty-two million, four hundred +and seventeen thousand, six hundred and one dollars, nine cents, and +two mills." +</P> + +<P> +"Conway," Parker answered him quietly, "I like your sense of humor, +even if it does hurt. However, you force me to fight the devil with +fire. Still, for the sake of the amenities, we should always make +formal declaration of war before beginning hostilities." +</P> + +<P> +"And that's a trick you didn't learn in Japan," the old contractor +reminded him. +</P> + +<P> +"So I hereby declare war. I'm a past master at holding hard to +whatever I do not wish the other fellow to take away from me, so build +your dam and be damned to you. Of course, if you complete your +contract eventually, you will force me to pay you for it, but in the +interim you will have had to use clam-shells and woodpecker heads for +money. I know I can stave off settlement of your judgment for a year; +after that, should I acquire title to the Rancho Palomar, I will settle +with you promptly." +</P> + +<P> +"And if you shouldn't acquire title, I shall look to my young friend, +Don Miguel Farrel, for reimbursement. While at present the future may +look as black to Mike as the Earl of Hell's riding-boots, his credit is +good with me. Is this new law you've promulgated retroactive?" +</P> + +<P> +"What do you mean?" +</P> + +<P> +"You'll settle with me for all work performed up to the moment of this +break in diplomatic relations, won't you?" +</P> + +<P> +"That's quite fair, Conway. I'll do that." Despite the chagrin of +having to wage for the nonce a losing battle, Parker laughed heartily +and with genuine sincerity. Don Mike joined with him and the charged +atmosphere cleared instantly. +</P> + +<P> +"Bill Conway, you're twenty-four carat all through." Farrel laid a hand +affectionately on his father's old friend. "Be sure to come down to +the hacienda tomorrow night and get your check. We dine at six-thirty." +</P> + +<P> +"As is?" Conway demanded, surveying his rusty old business suit and +hard, soiled hands. +</P> + +<P> +"'As is,' Bill." +</P> + +<P> +"Fine! Well, we've come to a complete understanding without falling +out over it, haven't we?" he demanded of Kay and her mother. "With +malice toward none and justice toward all—or words to that effect. +Eh?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, get back into your office, Conway, and cast up the account against +me. Figure a full day for the men and the mules, although our break +came at half-past three. I'm a contrary man, but I'm not small. Come +on, Mr. Farrel, let's go home," Parker suggested. +</P> + +<P> +"Little birds in their nest should agree," old Conway warned, as, with +a sweep of his battered old hat to the ladies, he turned to re-enter +his office. With a nod of farewell, John Parker and his wife started +riding down the draw, while Farrel turned to unloosen his saddle-girth +and adjust the heavy stock-saddle on the pinto's back. While he was +thus engaged, Kay rode up to the door of Conway's rough little office, +bent down from Panchito, and peered in. +</P> + +<P> +"Bill Conway!" she called softly. +</P> + +<P> +Bill Conway came to the door. +</P> + +<P> +"What's the big idea, Miss Parker?" +</P> + +<P> +The girl glanced around and saw that Don Mike was busy with the latigo, +so she leaned down, drew her arm around the astounded Conway's neck, +and implanted on his ruddy, bristly cheek a kiss as soft—so Bill +Conway afterward described it—as goose-hair. +</P> + +<P> +"You build that dam," she whispered, blushing furiously, "and see to it +that it's a good dam and will hold water for years. I'm the reserve in +this battle—understand? When you need money, see me, but, oh, please +do not tell Don Mike about it. I'd die of shame." +</P> + +<P> +She whirled Panchito and galloped down the draw, with Miguel Farrel +loping along behind her, while, from the door of his shack of an +office, old Bill Conway looked after them and thoughtfully rubbed a +certain spot on his cheek. Long after the young folks had disappeared +round the base of El Palomar, he continued to gaze. Eventually he was +brought out of his reverie when a cur dog belonging to one of the +teamsters on the grading gang thrust a cold muzzle into his hand. +</P> + +<P> +"Purp," murmured Mr. Conway, softly, "this isn't a half-bad old world, +even if a fellow does grow old, and finds himself hairless and +childless and half broke and shackled to the worst automobile in the +world, bar none. And do you know why it isn't such a rotten world as +some folks claim? No? Well, I'll tell you, purp. It's because it +keeps a-movin'. And do you know what keeps it a-movin'? Purp, it's +love!" +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap21"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +XXI +</H3> + + +<P> +At the base of El Palomar, Farrel and his party were met by the Parker +chauffeur with the car. Pablo had guided him out and was lounging +importantly in the seat beside William. +</P> + +<P> +"Don Nicolás Sandoval came to the hacienda an hour ago, Don Miguel," he +reported. "He brought with him three others; all have gone forth to +take possession of Loustalot's sheep." +</P> + +<P> +Farrel nodded and dismounted to assist Mrs. Parker as the latter came +down from her horse, somewhat stiffly. When he turned to perform a +similar office for her daughter, however, the girl smilingly shook her +head. +</P> + +<P> +"I shipped for the cruise, Don Mike," she assured him. "May I ride +home with you? Remember, you've got to pick up your rope and that +panther's pelt." Her adorable face flushed faintly as her gaze sought +her mother's. "I have never seen a panther undressed," she protested. +</P> + +<P> +"Well," her amiable mother replied, with her customary hearty manner, +"far be it from me to deprive you of that interesting sight. Take good +care of her, Miguel. I hold you responsible for her." +</P> + +<P> +"You are very kind to trust me so." +</P> + +<P> +Both Parker and his wife noted that his words were not mere polite +patter. Farrel's gravely courteous bearing, his respectful bow to Mrs. +Parker and the solemnity with which he spoke impressed them with the +conviction that this curious human study in light and shadow regarded +their approval as an honor, not a privilege. +</P> + +<P> +"I shall take very good care of Miss Kay," he supplemented. "We shall +be home for dinner." +</P> + +<P> +He mounted the gray gelding, leaving Pablo to follow with the black +mare and the pinto, while he and Kay cantered down the wide white wash +of the Rio San Gregorio. +</P> + +<P> +From their semi-concealment among the young willow growth, scrub cattle +gazed at them or fled, with tails aloft, for more distant thickets; +cottontail rabbits and an occasional jack-rabbit, venturing forth as +the shadows grew long in the valley, flashed through the low sage and +weeds; from the purpling hillsides cock quails called cheerily to their +families to come right home. The air was still and cool, heavy with +the perfume of sage, blackberry briars, <I>yerba santa</I>, an occasional +bay tree and the pungent odor of moist earth and decaying vegetation. +There had fallen upon the land that atmosphere of serenity, of peace, +that is the peculiar property of California's foothill valleys in the +late afternoon; the world seemed very distant and not at all desirable, +and to Kay there came a sudden, keen realization of how this man beside +her must love this darkling valley with the hills above presenting +their flower-clad breasts to the long spears of light from the dying +day… +</P> + +<P> +Don Mike had caught the spirit of the little choristers of his hidden +valley, she heard him singing softly in rather a pleasing baritone +voice: +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> + Pienso en ti, Teresita mia,<BR> + Cuando la luna alumbra la tierra<BR> + He sentido el fuego de tus ojos,<BR> + He sentido las penas del amor. +</P> + +<P> +"What does it mean?" she demanded, imperiously. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, it's a very ordinary little sentiment, Miss Kay. The Spanish +cavalier, having settled himself under his lady's window, thrums a +preliminary chord or two, just to let her and the family know he's not +working on the sly; then he says in effect: 'I think of thee, my little +Tessie, when the moonlight is shining on the world; your bright eyes +have me going for fair, kid, and due to a queer pain in my interior, I +know I'm in love.'" +</P> + +<P> +"You outrageous Celt!" +</P> + +<P> +He chuckled. "A Spaniard takes his love very seriously. He's got to +be sad and despairing about it, even when he knows very well the girl +is saying to herself: 'For heaven's sake, when will this windy bird get +down to brass tacks and pop the question?' He droops like a stale +eschscholtzia, only, unlike that flower he hasn't sense enough to shut +up for the night!" +</P> + +<P> +Her beaming face turned toward him was ample reward for his casual +display of Celtic wit, his knowledge of botany. And suddenly she saw +his first real smile—a flash of beautiful white teeth and a wrinkling +of the skin around the merry eyes. It came and went like a flicker of +lightning; the somber man was an insouciant lad again. +</P> + +<P> +A quarter of a mile across the valley they found the torn and mutilated +carcass of a heifer, with a day-old calf grieving beside her. +</P> + +<P> +"This is the work of our defunct friend, the panther," Farrel +explained. "He had made his kill on this little heifer and eaten +heartily. It occurred to me while we were chasing him that he was +logey. Well—when Mike's away the cats will play." +</P> + +<P> +He reached down, grasped the calf by the forelegs and drew the forlorn +little animal up before him on the saddle. As it stretched out quietly +across his thighs, following a half-hearted struggle to escape, Kay saw +Don Mike give the orphan his left index finger to suck. +</P> + +<P> +"Not much sustenance in it, is there, old timer?" he addressed the +calf. "Coyotes would have had you tonight if I hadn't passed by." +</P> + +<P> +"What a tiny calf," Kay observed, riding close to pat the sleek head. +</P> + +<P> +"He's scrubby and interbred; his mother bore him before she had her own +growth and a hundred generations of him got the same poor start in +life. You've seen people like this little runt. He really isn't worth +carrying home, but———" +</P> + +<P> +It occurred to her that his silence was eloquent of the inherent +generosity of the man, even as his poetic outburst of a few minutes +before had been eloquent of the minstrel in him. She rode in silence, +regarding him critically from time to time, and when they came to the +tree where the panther hung he gave her the calf to hold while he +deftly skinned the dead marauder, tied the pelt behind his saddle, +relieved her of the calf and jogged away toward home. +</P> + +<P> +"Well," he demanded, presently, "you do not think any the less of me +for what I did to your father this afternoon, do you?" +</P> + +<P> +"Of course not. Nobody likes a mollycoddle," she retorted. +</P> + +<P> +"A battle of finances between your father and me will not be a very +desperate one. A gnat attacking a tiger. I shall scarcely interest +him. I am predestined to defeat." +</P> + +<P> +"But with Mr. Conway's aid———" +</P> + +<P> +"Bill's aid will not amount to very much. He was always a splendid +engineer and an honest builder, but a poor business man. He might be +able to maintain work on the dam for awhile, but in the end lack of +adequate finances would defeat us. And I have no right to ask Bill to +sacrifice the profit on this job which your father is willing to pay +him, in return for a cancellation of the contract; I have no right to +ask or expect Bill Conway to risk a penniless old age for me. You see, +I attacked him at his weakest point—his heart. It was selfish of me." +</P> + +<P> +She could not combat this argument, so she said nothing and for a +quarter of a mile her companion rode with his chin on his breast, in +silence. What a man of moods he was, she reflected. +</P> + +<P> +"You despair of being able to pay my father the mortgage and regain +your ranch?" she asked, at length. +</P> + +<P> +He nodded. +</P> + +<P> +"But you'll fight to win—and fight to the finish, will you not?" she +persisted. +</P> + +<P> +He glanced at her sharply. "That is my natural inclination, Miss +Kay—when I permit sentiment to rule me. But when I apply the +principles of sound horse sense—when I view the approach of the +conflict as a military man would view it, I am forced to the conviction +that in this case discretion is the better part of valor. Battles are +never won by valorous fools who get themselves killed in a spectacular +manner." +</P> + +<P> +"I see. You plan to attempt the sale of your equity in the ranch +before my father can finally foreclose on you." +</P> + +<P> +"No, that would be the least profitable course to pursue. A +hundred-thousand-acre ranch is not sold in a hurry unless offered at a +tremendous sacrifice. Even then it is of slow sale. For the following +reasons: Within a few years, what with the rapid growth of population +in this state and the attrition of alien farmers on our agricultural +lands, this wonderful valley land of the Rancho Palomar will cease to +be assessed as grazing land. It is agricultural land and as a matter +of equity it ought to pay taxes to the state on that basis. And it +will. I do not know—I have never heard of—a cattleman with a million +dollars cash on hand, and if I could find such a cattleman who was +looking for a hundred thousand acre ranch he would not want half of it +to be agricultural land and be forced to bankrupt himself paying taxes +on it as such." +</P> + +<P> +"I think I understand. The ranch must be sold to some person or +company who will purchase it with the idea of selling half of the ranch +as grazing land and the valley of the San Gregorio as agricultural +land." +</P> + +<P> +"Quite so. I would have to interest a sub-division expert whose +specialty is the sale of small farms, on time payments. Well, no +business man ever contemplates the purchase, at a top price, of +property that is to be sold on mortgage foreclosure; and I think he +would be an optimist, indeed, who would bid against your father." +</P> + +<P> +"Of course," he continued, patiently, "when the ranch is sold at +auction to satisfy the mortgage your father will bid it in at the +amount of the mortgage, It is improbable that he will have to pay more." +</P> + +<P> +"Am I to understand then, Don Mike, that for approximately three +hundred thousand dollars he will be enabled, under this atrocious code +of business morals, to acquire a property worth at least a million +dollars?" +</P> + +<P> +"Such is the law—a law as old as the world itself." +</P> + +<P> +"Why, then, the whole thing is absurdly simple, Don Mike. All you have +to do is to get a friend to bid against my father and run the price up +on him to something like a half-way decent sum. In that way you should +manage to save a portion of your equity." +</P> + +<P> +He bent upon her a benign and almost paternal glance. "You're +tremendously sweet to put that flea in my ear, Kay. It's a wonderful +prescription, but it lacks one small ingredient—the wealthy, +courageous and self-sacrificing friend who will consent to run the +sandy on your astute parent, as a favor to me." +</P> + +<P> +She gave him a tender, prescient little smile—the smile of one who +sees beyond a veil objects not visible to the eyes of other mortals. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, even if he is my dear father he ought to be nice about it and +see to it that you receive a fair price for your equity." She clenched +her little fist. "Why, Don Mike, that's just like killing the wounded." +</P> + +<P> +"My dear girl, I do not blame your father at all. What claim have I on +his sympathy or his purse? I'm a stranger to him. One has to be a +sport in such matters and take the blow with a smile." +</P> + +<P> +"I don't care. It's all wrong," she replied with spirit. "And I'm +going to tell my father so." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, I've thought up a plan for escaping with a profit," he assured +her, lightly. "It will leave you folks in undisputed possession of the +house and the ranch, leave Bill Conway free to proceed with his +valuable contract and leave me free to mount Panchito and fare forth to +other and more virgin fields—I trust. All of this within a period of +forty-eight hours." +</P> + +<P> +Was it fancy, or had her face really blanched a little? +</P> + +<P> +"Why—why, Don Mike! How extraordinary!" +</P> + +<P> +"On the contrary, quite ordinary. It's absurdly simple. I need some +getaway money. I ought to have it—and I'm going to get it by the +oldest known method—extortion through intimidation. Your father is a +smart man and he will see the force of my argument." +</P> + +<P> +"He's a very stubborn man and doesn't bluff worth a cent," she warned +him and added: "Particularly when he doesn't like one or when he is +angry. And whatever you do, do not threaten him. If you threaten him, +instantly he will be consumed with curiosity to see you make good." +</P> + +<P> +"I shall not threaten him. I shall merely talk business to him. +That's a language he understands." +</P> + +<P> +"How much money do you expect to realize?" +</P> + +<P> +"About half a million dollars." +</P> + +<P> +"In return for what?" +</P> + +<P> +"A quit claim deed to the Rancho Palomar. He can have a title in fee +simple to the ranch by noon tomorrow and thus be spared the necessity +for a new suit to foreclose that accursed mortgage and the concomitant +wait of one year before taking possession. He will then be free to +continue his well-drilling and dam-building in Caliente Basin; he can +immediately resume his negotiations with Okada for the purchase of the +entire valley and will be enabled, in all probability, to close the +deal at a splendid profit. Then he can proceed to erect his +hydro-electric plant and sell it for another million dollars' profit to +one of the parent power companies throughout the state; when that has +been disposed of he can lease or sell the range land to André Loustalot +and finally he can retire with the prospect of unceasing dividends from +the profits of his irrigation company. Within two years he will have a +profit of at least two million dollars, net, but this will not be +possible until he has first disposed of me at a total disposing price +of five hundred thousand dollars." +</P> + +<P> +"Please explain that." +</P> + +<P> +"As I think I have remarked in your presence once before, there is +extreme probability that the State of California will have passed +additional anti-Jap legislation, designed to tighten the present law +and eliminate the legal loop-holes whereby alien Japanese continue to +acquire land despite the existing law. If I stand pat no Jap can set +foot in the San Gregorio valley for at least one year from date and by +that time this legislation may be in force, in which event the Jap deal +will be killed forever. Also, there is always the off chance that I +may manage, mysteriously, to redeem the property in the interim. It +would be worth a quarter of a million dollars to your father this +minute if he could insure himself against redemption of the mortgage; +and it would be worth an additional quarter of a million dollars to him +if he were free to do business with Okada to-morrow morning. Okada is +a sure-fire prospect. He will pay cash for the entire valley if I +permit the deal to go through now. If, however, through my +stubbornness, your father loses out with Okada, it will be a year hence +before he can even recommence work on his irrigation system and another +year before he will have it completed. Many things may occur during +those two years—the principal danger to be apprehended being the +sudden collapse of inflated war-time values, with resultant money +panics, forced liquidation and the destruction of public confidence in +land investments. The worry and exasperation I can hand your respected +parent must be as seriously considered as the impending tremendous loss +of profit." +</P> + +<P> +"I believe you are a very shrewd young man, Don Mike," the girl +answered, sadly. "I think your plan will be much more likely to +produce half a million dollars of what you call 'getaway money' than my +suggestion that a friend run up the price on father at the sale. But +how do you know Okada will pay cash?" +</P> + +<P> +"I do not know. But if your father's attorneys are Californians they +will warn him to play safe when dealing with a Jap." +</P> + +<P> +"But is it not possible that Okada may not have sufficient money to +operate on the excessive scale you outline?" +</P> + +<P> +"Not a chance. He is not buying for himself; he is the representative +of the Japanese Association of California." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, Don Miguel Farrel," the girl declared, as he ceased speaking, "I +have only known you twenty-four hours, but in that time I have heard +you do a deal of talking on the Japanese question in California. And +now you have proved a terrible disappointment to me." +</P> + +<P> +"In what way?" he demanded, and pulled his horse up abruptly. He was +vaguely distressed at her blunt statement, apprehensive as to the +reason for her flushed face and flashing eye, the slightly strident +note in her voice. +</P> + +<P> +"I have regarded you as a true blue American—a super-patriot. And now +you calmly plan to betray your state to the enemy for the paltry sum of +half a million dollars!" +</P> + +<P> +He stared at her, a variety of emotions in his glance. "Well," he +replied, presently, "I suppose I shall deserve that, if I succeed with +my plan. However, as a traitor, I'm not even a runner-up with your +father. He's going to get a couple of million dollars as the price of +his shame! And he doesn't even need the money. On the other hand, I +am a desperate, mighty unhappy ex-soldier experiencing all of the +delights of a bankrupt, with the exception of an introduction to the +referee in bankruptcy. I'm whipped. Who cares what becomes of me? +Not a soul on earth except Pablo and Carolina and they, poor creatures, +are dependent upon me. Why should I sacrifice my last chance for +happiness in a vain effort to stem a yellow tide that cannot be +stemmed? Why do you taunt me with my aversion to sacrifice for my +country—I who have sacrificed two years of my life and some of my +blood and much of my happiness?" +</P> + +<P> +Suddenly she put her little gauntleted hand up to her face and +commenced to weep. "Oh, Don Mike, please forgive me! I'm sorry. +I—I—have no right to demand such a sacrifice, but oh, I +thought—perhaps—you were different from all the others—that you'd be +a true—knight and die—sword in—hand—oh, dear, I'm such a—little +ninny———" +</P> + +<P> +He bit his lower lip but could not quite conceal a smile. +</P> + +<P> +"You mean you didn't think I was a quitter!" His voice was grim and +crisp. "Well, in the dirty battle for bread and butter there are no +decorations for gallantry in action; in that conflict I do not have to +live up to the one that Congress gave me. And why shouldn't I quit? I +come from a long line of combination fighter-quitters. We were never +afraid of hardship or physical pain, danger or death, but—we couldn't +face conditions; we balked and quit in the face of circumstance; we +retired always before the economic onslaught of the Anglo-Saxon." +</P> + +<P> +"Ah, but you're Anglo-Saxon," she sobbed. "You belong to the race that +doesn't quit—that somehow muddles through." +</P> + +<P> +"If I but possessed blue eyes and flaxen hair—if I but possessed the +guerdon of a noble lady's love—I might not have disappointed you, Kay. +I might still have been a true knight and died sword in hand. +Unfortunately, however, I possess sufficient Latin blood to make me a +little bit lazy—to counsel quitting while the quitting is good." +</P> + +<P> +"I'm terribly disappointed," she protested. "Terribly." +</P> + +<P> +"So am I. I'm ashamed of myself, but—a contrite heart is not hockable +at the only pawnshop in El Toro. Buck up, Miss Parker!" +</P> + +<P> +"You have called me Kay three times this afternoon, Miguel———" +</P> + +<P> +He rode close to her, reached over and gently drew one little hand from +her crimson face. "You're a dear girl, Kay," he murmured, huskily. +"Please cease weeping. You haven't insulted me or even remotely hurt +my little feelings. God bless your sweet soul! If you'll only stop +crying, I'll give you Panchito. He's yours from this minute. Saddle +and bridle, too. Take him. Do what you please with him, but for +heaven's sake don't let your good mother think we've been +quarreling—and on the very second day of our acquaintance." +</P> + +<P> +She dashed the tears away and beamed up at him. "You give Panchito to +me! You don't mean it!" +</P> + +<P> +"I do. I told you I might give him away to somebody worth while." +</P> + +<P> +"You haven't known me long enough to give me valuable presents, +Miguel," she demurred. "You're a dear to want to give him to me and +I'm positively mad to own him, but Mother and Dad might think—well, +that is, they might not understand. Of course we understand perfectly, +but—well—you understand, don't you, Miguel?" +</P> + +<P> +"I understand that I cannot afford to have your father suspect that I +am unmindful of—certain conditions," he answered her, and flushed with +embarrassment. "If you do not want Panchito as a gift I shall not +insist———" +</P> + +<P> +"I think it would be a good idea for you to permit Dad to buy him for +me. He's worth every cent of five thousand dollars———" +</P> + +<P> +"I'll never sell him. I told you this afternoon I love him. I never +sell a horse or a dog that I love or that loves me. I shall have to +take him back, Kay—for the present." +</P> + +<P> +"I think that would be the better way, Miguel." She bent upon him an +inscrutable smile but in the depths of her brown eyes he thought he +detected laughter. +</P> + +<P> +"You'll buck up now?" he pleaded. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm already bucked up." +</P> + +<P> +As they rode up to the great barn, Kay dismounted. "Leave the old +trifle at the door, Kay," Farrel told her. "Pablo will get him home. +Excuse me, please, while I take this calf over to Carolina. She'll +make a man out of him. She's a wonder at inducing little mavericks +like this fellow to drink milk from a bucket." +</P> + +<P> +He jogged away, while Panchito, satisfied that he had performed +throughout the day like a perfect gentleman, bent his head and rubbed +his forehead against Kay's cheek, seeking some evidence of growing +popularity with the girl. To his profound satisfaction she scratched +him under the jawbone and murmured audibly: +</P> + +<P> +"Never mind, old dear. Some day you'll be my Panchito. He loves you +and didn't he say he could only give you away for love?" +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap22"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XXII +</H3> + + +<P> +Dinner that night was singularly free from conversation. Nobody +present felt inclined to be chatty. John Parker was wondering what +Miguel Farrel's next move would be, and was formulating means to +checkmate it; Kay, knowing what Don Mike's next move would be and +knowing further that she was about to checkmate it, was silent through +a sense of guilt; Mrs. Parker's eight miles in the saddle that +afternoon had fatigued her to the point of dissipating her buoyant +spirits, and Farrel had fallen into a mood of deep abstraction. +</P> + +<P> +"Are we to listen to naught but the champing of food?" Mrs. Parker +inquired presently. +</P> + +<P> +"Hello!" her husband declared. "So you've come up for air, eh, Katie?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, I'm feeling far from chatty, John. But the silence is oppressive. +Miguel, are you plotting against the whites?" +</P> + +<P> +He looked up with a smiling nod. "I'm making big medicine, Mrs. +Parker. So big, in fact," he continued, as he folded his napkin and +thrust it carefully into the ring, "that I am going to ask your +permission to withdraw. I have been very remiss in my social duties. +I have been home twenty-four hours and I have passed the Mission de la +Madre Dolorosa three times, yet I have not been inside to pay my +respects to my old friends there. I shall be in disgrace if I fail to +call this evening for Father Dominic's blessing. They'll be wondering +why I neglect them." +</P> + +<P> +"How do you know they know you're home?" Parker demanded, suspiciously. +He was wondering if Don Miguel's excuse to leave the table might have +some connection with Bill Conway and the impending imbroglio. +</P> + +<P> +"Brother Flavio told me so to-night. As we rode down the valley he was +ringing the Angelus; and after the Angelus he played on the chimes, +'I'm Nearer Home To-day.' May I be excused, Mrs. Parker?" +</P> + +<P> +"By all means, Michael." +</P> + +<P> +"Thank you." He included them all in a courteous nod of farewell. +They heard the patio gate close behind him. +</P> + +<P> +"I wish I dared follow him," Parker observed. "I wonder if he really +is going down to the Mission. I think I'll make certain." +</P> + +<P> +He left the room, went out to the patio gate, opened it slightly and +peered out. His host's tall form, indistinct in the moonlight, was +disappearing toward the palm-lined avenue, so Parker, satisfied that +Don Mike had embarked upon the three-mile walk to the Mission, returned +to the dining-room. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, Mr. Sherlock Holmes?" Kay queried. +</P> + +<P> +"I think he's headed for the Mission, after all, Kay." +</P> + +<P> +"I never doubted it." +</P> + +<P> +"Why?" +</P> + +<P> +"Because he wouldn't tell a trifling lie to deceive when there was no +necessity for deceiving. His plans are fully matured and he will not +act until morning. In that three-mile walk to the Mission he will +perfect the details of his plan of attack." +</P> + +<P> +"Then he is planning?—but you said his plans are fully matured. How +do you know, Kay?" +</P> + +<P> +"He told me all about them as we were riding in this evening." Both +Parker and his wife raised interrogatory eyebrows. "Indeed!" Mrs. +Parker murmured. "So he's honoring you with his confidences already?" +</P> + +<P> +The girl ignored her mother's bantering tones. "No, he didn't tell me +in confidence. In fact, his contemplated procedure is so normal and +free from guile that he feels there is no necessity for secrecy. I +suppose he feels that it would be foolish to conceal the trap after the +mouse has been caught in it." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, little daughter, I haven't been caught—yet. And I'm not a +mouse, but considerable of an old fox. What's he up to?" +</P> + +<P> +"He's going to sell you his equity in the ranch." +</P> + +<P> +Her father stared hard at her, a puzzled little smile beginning to +break over his handsome face. +</P> + +<P> +"That sounds interesting," he replied, dryly. "What am I going to pay +for it?" +</P> + +<P> +"Half a million dollars." +</P> + +<P> +"Nonsense." +</P> + +<P> +"Perhaps. But you'll have to admit that his reasoning is not so +preposterous as you think." And she went on to explain to Parker every +angle of the situation as Don Mike viewed it. +</P> + +<P> +Both Parker and his wife listened attentively. "Well, John," the good +soul demanded, when her daughter had finished speaking: "What's wrong +with that prescription?" +</P> + +<P> +"By George, that young man has a head on his shoulders. His reasoning +is absolutely flawless. However, I am not going to pay him any +half-million dollars. I might, in a pinch, consider paying him half +that, but———" +</P> + +<P> +"Would a quit-claim deed be worth half a million to you, Dad?" +</P> + +<P> +"As a matter of cold business, it would. Are you quite certain he was +serious?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, quite serious." +</P> + +<P> +"He's a disappointment, Kay. I had hoped he would prove to be a +worth-while opponent, for certainly he is a most likable young man. +However———" He smothered a yawn with his hand, selected a cigar +from his case, carefully cut off the end and lighted it. "Poor devil," +he murmured, presently, and rose, remarking that he might as well take +a turn or two around the farmyard as a first aid to digestion. +</P> + +<P> +Once outside, he walked to the edge of the mesa and gazed down the +moon-lit San Gregorio. Half a mile away he saw a moving black spot on +the white ribbon of road. "Confound you," he murmured, "you're going +to get some of my tail feathers, but not quite the handful you +anticipate. You cannot stand the acid test, Don Mike, and I'm glad to +know that." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap23"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XXIII +</H3> + + +<P> +As Farrel approached the Mission de la Madre Dolorosa, a man in the +rusty brown habit of a Franciscan friar rose from a bench just outside +the entrance to the Mission garden. +</P> + +<P> +"My son," he said, in calm, paternal accents and speaking in Spanish, +"I knew you would come to see your old friends when you had laid aside +the burdens of the day. I have waited here to be first to greet you; +for you I am guilty of the sin of selfishness." +</P> + +<P> +"Padre Dominic!" Don Mike grasped the out-stretched hand and wrung it +heartily. "Old friend! Old Saint! Not since my confirmation have I +asked for your blessing," and with the words he bent his head while the +old friar, making the sign of the cross, asked the blessing of God upon +the last of the Farrels. +</P> + +<P> +Don Mike drew his old friend down to the seat the latter had just +vacated. "We will talk here for awhile, Father," he suggested. "I +expect the arrival of a friend in an automobile and I would not be in +the garden when he passes. Later I will visit with the others. Good +Father Dominic, does God still bless you with excellent health?" +</P> + +<P> +"He does, Miguel, but the devil afflicts me with rheumatism." +</P> + +<P> +"You haven't changed a bit, father Dominic." +</P> + +<P> +"Mummies do not change, my son. I have accomplished ninety-two years +of my life; long ago I used up all possibilities for change, even for +the worse. It is good to have you home, Miguel. Pablo brought us the +news early this morning. We wondered why you did not look in upon us +as you passed last night." +</P> + +<P> +"I looked in at my father's grave. I was in no mood for meeting those +who had loved him." +</P> + +<P> +For perhaps half an hour they conversed; then the peace of the valley +was broken by the rattling and labored puffing of an asthmatic +automobile. +</P> + +<P> +Father Dominic rose and peered around the corner. "Yonder comes one +who practises the great virtue of economy," he announced, "for he is +running without lights. Doubtless he deems the moonlight sufficient." +</P> + +<P> +Farrel stepped out into the road and held up his arm as a signal for +the motorist to halt. Old Bill Conway swung his prehistoric automobile +off the road and pulled up before the Mission, his carbon-heated motor +continuing to fire spasmodically even after he had turned off the +ignition. +</P> + +<P> +"Hello, Miguel," he called, cheerily. "What are you doing here, son?" +</P> + +<P> +"Calling on my spiritual adviser and waiting for you, Bill." +</P> + +<P> +"Howdy, Father Dominic." Conway leaped out and gave his hand to the +old friar. "Miguel, how did you know I was coming?" +</P> + +<P> +"This is the only road out of Agua Caliente basin—and I know you! +You'd give your head for a football to anybody you love, but the man +who takes anything away from you will have to get up early in the +morning." +</P> + +<P> +"Go to the head of the class, boy. You're right. I figured Parker +would be getting up rather early tomorrow morning and dusting into El +Toro to clear for action, so I thought I'd come in to-night. I'm going +to rout out an attorney the minute I get to town, have him draw up a +complaint in my suit for damages against Parker for violation of +contract, file the complaint the instant the county clerk's office +opens in the morning and then attach his account in the El Toro bank." +</P> + +<P> +"You might attach his stock in that institution while you're at it, +Bill. However, I wouldn't stoop so low as to attach his two +automobiles. The Parkers are guests of mine and I wouldn't +inconvenience the ladies for anything," +</P> + +<P> +"By the Holy Poker! Have they got two automobiles?" There was a hint +of apprehension in old Conway's voice. +</P> + +<P> +"Si, <I>señor</I>. A touring car and a limousine." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, lord! I'm mighty glad you told me, Miguel. I only stole the +spark plugs from that eight cylinder touring car. Lucky thing the +hounds know me. They like to et me up at first." +</P> + +<P> +Farrel sat down on the filthy running board of Bill Conway's car and +laughed softly. "Oh, Bill, you're immense! So that's why you're +running without lights! You concluded that even if he did get up early +in the morning you couldn't afford to permit him to reach El Toro +before the court-house opened for business." +</P> + +<P> +"A wise man counteth his chickens before they are hatched, Miguel. +Where does Parker keep the limousine?" +</P> + +<P> +"Bill, I cannot tell you that. These people are my guests." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, very well. Now that I know it's there I'll find it. What did you +want to see me about, boy?" +</P> + +<P> +"I've been thinking of our conversation of this afternoon, Bill, and as +a result I'm panicky. I haven't any right to drag you into trouble or +ask you to share my woes. I've thought it over and I think I shall +play safe. Parker will get the ranch in the long run, but if I give +him a quit-claim deed now I think he will give me at least a quarter of +a million dollars. It'll be worth that to him to be free to proceed +with his plans." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, I can understand that, Miguel, and probably, from a business +standpoint, your decision does credit to your common sense. But how +about this Jap colony?" +</P> + +<P> +"Bill, can two lone, poverty-stricken Californians hope to alter the +immigration laws of the entire United States? Can we hope to keep the +present Japanese population of California confined to existing areas?" +</P> + +<P> +"No, I suppose not." +</P> + +<P> +"I had a wild hope this afternoon—guess I was a bit theatrical—but it +was a hope based on selfishness. I'm only twenty-eight years old, +Bill, but you are nearly sixty. I'm too young to sacrifice my old +friends, so I've waited here to tell you that you are released from +your promise to support me. Settle with Parker and pull out in peace." +</P> + +<P> +Conway pondered. "Wel-l-l-l," he concluded, finally, "perhaps you're +right, son. Nevertheless, I'm going to enter suit and attach. Foolish +to hunt big game with an empty gun, Miguel. Parker spoke of an +amicable settlement, but as Napoleon remarked, 'God is on the side of +the strongest battalions,' and an amicable settlement is much more +amicably obtained, when a forced settlement is inevitable." And the +cunning old rascal winked solemnly. +</P> + +<P> +Farrel stood up. "Well, that's all I wanted to see you about, Bill. +That, and to say 'thank you' until you are better paid." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, I'm on my way, Miguel." The old contractor shook hands with +Father Dominic and Farrel, cranked his car, turned it and headed back +up the San Gregorio, while Father Dominic guided Don Mike into the +Mission refectory, where Father Andreas and the lay brothers sat around +the dinner table, discussing a black scale which had lately appeared on +their olive trees. +</P> + +<P> +At the entrance to the palm avenue, Bill Conway stopped his car and +proceeded afoot to the Farrel hacienda, which he approached cautiously +from the rear, through the oaks. A slight breeze was blowing down the +valley, so Conway manoeuvred until a short quick bark from one of +Farrel's hounds informed him that his scent had been borne to the +kennel and recognized as that of a friend. Confident now that he would +not be discovered by the inmates of the hacienda, Bill Conway proceeded +boldly to the barn. Just inside the main building which, in more +prosperous times on El Palomar, had been used for storing hay, the +touring car stood. Conway fumbled along the instrument board and +discovered the switch key still in the lock, so he turned on the +headlights and discovered the limousine thirty feet away in the rear of +the barn. Ten minutes later, with the spark plugs from both cars +carefully secreted under a pile of split stove wood in the yard, he +departed as silently as he had come. +</P> + +<P> +About nine o'clock Don Mike left the Mission and walked home. On the +hills to the north he caught the glare of a camp-fire against the +silvery sky; wherefore he knew that Don Nicolás Sandoval and his +deputies were guarding the Loustalot sheep. +</P> + +<P> +At ten o'clock he entered the patio. In a wicker chaise-longue John +Parker lounged on the porch outside his room; Farrel caught the scent +of his cigar on the warm, semi-tropical night, saw the red end of it +gleaming like a demon's eye. +</P> + +<P> +"Hello, Mr. Farrel," Parker greeted him. "Won't you sit down and smoke +a cigar with me before turning in?" +</P> + +<P> +"Thank you. I shall be happy to." He crossed the garden to his guest, +sat down beside him and gratefully accepted the fragrant cigar Parker +handed him. A moment later Kay joined them. +</P> + +<P> +"Wonderful night," Parker remarked. "Mrs. P. retired early, but Kay +and I sat up chatting and enjoying the peaceful loveliness of this old +garden. A sleepless mocking bird and a sleepy little thrush gave a +concert in the sweet-lime tree; a couple of green frogs in the fountain +rendered a bass duet; Kay thought that if we remained very quiet the +spirits of some lovers of the 'splendid idle forties' might appear in +your garden." +</P> + +<P> +The mood of the night was still upon the girl. In the momentary +silence that followed she commenced singing softly: +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> + I saw an old-fashioned missus,<BR> + Taking old-fashioned kisses,<BR> + In an old-fashioned garden,<BR> + From an old-fashioned beau. +</P> + +<P> +Don Mike slid off the porch and went to his own room, returning +presently with a guitar. "I've been wanting to play a little," he +confessed as he tuned the neglected instrument, "but it seemed sort of +sacrilegious—after coming home and finding my father gone and the +ranch about to go. However—why sip sorrow with a long spoon? What's +that ballad about the old-fashioned garden, Miss Kay? I like it. If +you'll hum it a few times———" +</P> + +<P> +Ten minutes later he knew the simple little song and was singing it +with her. Mrs. Parker, in dressing gown, slippers and boudoir cap, +despairing of sleep until all of the members of her family had first +preceded her to bed, came out and joined them; presently they were all +singing happily together, while Don Mike played or faked an +accompaniment. +</P> + +<P> +At eleven o'clock Farrel gave a final vigorous strum to the guitar and +stood up to say good-night. +</P> + +<P> +"Shall we sing again to-morrow night, Don Mike?" Kay demanded, eagerly. +</P> + +<P> +Farrel's glance rested solemnly upon her father's face. "Well, if we +all feel happy to-morrow night I see no objection," he answered. "I +fear for your father, Miss Kay. Have you told him of my plans for +depleting his worldly wealth?" +</P> + +<P> +She flushed a little and answered in the affirmative. +</P> + +<P> +"How does the idea strike you, Mr. Parker?" +</P> + +<P> +John Parker grinned—the superior grin of one who knows his superior +strength, "Like a great many principles that are excellent in theory, +your plan will not work in practice." +</P> + +<P> +"No?" +</P> + +<P> +"No." +</P> + +<P> +For the second time that day Kay saw Don Mike's face light up with that +insouciant boyish smile. +</P> + +<P> +Then he skipped blithely across the garden thrumming the guitar and +singing: +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> + Mine eyes have seen the glory of the<BR> + coming of the Lord! +</P> + +<P> +At seven o'clock next morning, while Miguel Farrel was shaving, John +Parker came to his door, knocked, and without further ado came into the +room. +</P> + +<P> +"Farrel," he began, briskly, "I do not relish your way of doing +business. Where are the spark plugs of my two cars?" +</P> + +<P> +"My dear man, I haven't taken them, so why do you ask me? I am not +flattered at your blunt hint that I would so far forget my position as +host as to steal the spark plugs from my guest's automobiles." +</P> + +<P> +"I beg your pardon. Somebody took them and naturally I jumped to the +conclusion that you were the guilty party." +</P> + +<P> +Don Mike shaved in silence. +</P> + +<P> +"Do you know who removed those spark plugs, Mr. Farrel?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, sir, I do." +</P> + +<P> +"Who did it?" +</P> + +<P> +"Bill Conway. He came by last night and concluded it would be better +to make quite certain that you remained away from El Toro until about +nine-thirty o'clock this morning. It was entirely Bill's idea. I did +not suggest it to him, directly or indirectly. He's old enough to roll +his own hoop. He had a complaint in action drawn up against you last +night; it will be filed at nine o'clock this morning and immediately +thereafter your bank account and your stock in the First National Bank +of El Toro will be attached. Of course you will file a bond to lift +the attachment, but Bill will have your assets where he can levy on +them when he gets round to collecting on the judgment which he will +secure against you unless you proceed with the contract for that dam." +</P> + +<P> +"And this is Conway's work entirely?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, sir." +</P> + +<P> +"It's clever work. I'm sorry it wasn't yours. May I have the loan of +a saddle horse—Panchito or the gray?" +</P> + +<P> +"Not to ride either of them, breakfastless, twenty-one miles to El Toro +in two hours. They can do it, but not under an impost of a hundred and +ninety pounds. You might ruin both of them———" he scraped his chin, +smiling blandly——— "and I know you'd about ruin yourself, sir. The +saddle had commenced to get very sore before you had completed eight +miles yesterday." +</P> + +<P> +"Then I'm out of luck, I dare say." +</P> + +<P> +"Strikes me that way, Mr. Parker." +</P> + +<P> +"Very well. You force me to talk business. What will that quit-claim +deed cost me?" +</P> + +<P> +"Six hundred thousand dollars. I've raised the ante since last night." +</P> + +<P> +"I'll not pay it." +</P> + +<P> +"What will you pay?" +</P> + +<P> +"About fifty per cent. of it." +</P> + +<P> +"I might consider less than my first figure and more than your last. +Make me a firm offer—in writing—and I'll give you a firm answer the +instant you hand me the document. I'm a poor bargainer. Haggling +irritates me—so I never haggle. And I don't care a tinker's hoot +whether you buy me off or not. After nine o'clock this morning you +will have lost the opportunity, because I give you my word of honor, I +shall decline even to receive an offer." +</P> + +<P> +He reached over on his bureau and retrieved therefrom a sheet of paper. +"Here is the form I desire your offer to take, sir," he continued, +affably, and handed the paper to Parker. "Please re-write it in ink, +fill in the amount of your offer and sign it. You have until nine +o'clock, remember. At nine-one you will be too late." +</P> + +<P> +Despite his deep annoyance, Parker favored him with a sardonic grin. +"You're a good bluffer, Farrel." +</P> + +<P> +Don Mike turned from the mirror and regarded his guest very solemnly. +"How do you know?" he queried, mildly. "You've never seen me bluff. +I've seen a few inquests held in this country over some men who bluffed +in an emergency. We're no longer wild and woolly out here, but when we +pull, we shoot. Remember that, sir." +</P> + +<P> +Parker felt himself abashed in the presence of this cool young man, for +nothing is so disconcerting as a defeated enemy who refuses to +acknowledge defeat. It occurred to Parker in that moment that there +was nothing extraordinary in Farrel's action; for consideration of the +sweetness of life cannot be presumed to arouse a great deal of interest +in one who knows he will be murdered if he does not commit suicide. +</P> + +<P> +John Parker tucked the paper in his pocket and thoughtfully left the +room. "The boy distrusts me," he soliloquized, "afraid I'll go back on +any promise I make him, so he demands my offer in writing. Some more +of his notions of business, Spanish style. Stilted and unnecessary. +How like all of his kind he is! Ponderous in minor affairs, casual in +major matters of business." +</P> + +<P> +An hour later he came up to Don Mike, chatting with Kay and Mrs. Parker +on the porch, and thrust an envelope into Farrel's hand. +</P> + +<P> +"Here is my offer—in writing." +</P> + +<P> +"Thank you, sir." Don Mike thrust the envelope unopened into the +breast pocket of his coat and from the side pocket of the same garment +drew another envelope. "Here is my answer—in writing." +</P> + +<P> +Parker stared at him in frank amazement and admiration; Kay's glance, +as it roved from her father to Don Mike and back again, was sad and +troubled. +</P> + +<P> +"Then you've reopened negotiations, father," she demanded, accusingly. +</P> + +<P> +He nodded. "Our host has a persuasive way about him, Kay," he +supplemented. "He insisted so on my making him an offer that finally I +consented." +</P> + +<P> +"And now," Farrel assured her, "negotiations are about to be closed." +</P> + +<P> +"Absolutely?" +</P> + +<P> +"Absolutely. Never to be reopened, Miss Kay." +</P> + +<P> +Parker opened his envelope and read. His face was without emotion. +"That answer is entirely satisfactory to me, Mr. Farrel," he said, +presently, and passed the paper to his daughter. She read: +</P> + +<P> +I was tempted last night. You should have closed then. I have changed +my mind. Your offer—whatever it may be—is declined. +</P> + +<P> +"I also approve," Kay murmured, and in the swift glance she exchanged +with Don Miguel he read something that caused his heart to beat +happily. Mrs. Parker took the paper from her daughter's hand and read +it also. +</P> + +<P> +"Very well, Ajax. I think, we all think a great deal more of you for +defying the lightning," was her sole comment. +</P> + +<P> +Despite his calm, John Parker was irritated to the point of fury. He +felt that he had been imposed upon by Don Mike; his great god, +business, had been scandalously flouted. +</P> + +<P> +"I am at a loss to understand, Mr. Farrel," he said, coldly, "why you +have subjected me to the incivility of requesting from me an offer in +writing and then refusing to read it when I comply with your request. +Why subject me to that annoyance when you knew you intended to refuse +any offer I might make you? I do not relish your flippancy at my +expense, sir." +</P> + +<P> +"Do you not think, sir, that I can afford a modicum of flippancy when I +pay such a fearfully high price for it?" Don Mike countered smilingly. +"I'll bet a new hat my pleasantry cost me not less than four hundred +thousand dollars. I think I'll make certain," and he opened Parker's +envelope and read what was contained therein. "Hum-m! Three hundred +and twenty-five thousand?" +</P> + +<P> +Parker extended his hand. "I would be obliged to you for the return of +that letter," he began, but paused, confused, at Farrel's cheerful, +mocking grin. +</P> + +<P> +"All's fair in love and war," he quoted, gaily. "I wanted a document +to prove to some banker or pawn-broker that I have an equity in this +ranch and it is worth three hundred and twenty-five thousand dollars, +in the opinion of the astute financier who holds a first mortgage on +it. Really, I think I'd be foolish to give away this evidence," and he +tucked it carefully back in his pocket. +</P> + +<P> +"I wonder," Kay spoke up demurely, "which ancestor from which side of +the family tree put that idea in his head, father?" +</P> + +<P> +Don Mike pretended not to have heard her. He turned kindly to John +Parker and laid a friendly hand upon the latter's arm. +</P> + +<P> +"I think Bill Conway will drift by about ten o'clock or ten-thirty, Mr. +Parker. I know he will not cause you any more inconvenience than he +finds absolutely necessary, sir. He's tricky, but he isn't mean." +</P> + +<P> +Parker did not reply. He did not know whether to laugh or fly into a +rage, to offer Don Mike his hand or his fist. The latter must have +guessed Parker's feelings, for he favored his guests with a Latin shrug +and a deprecatory little smile, begged to be excused and departed for +the barn. A quarter of an hour later Kay saw him and Pablo ride out of +the yard and over the hills toward the west; she observed that Farrel +was riding his father's horse, wherefore she knew that he had left +Panchito behind for her. +</P> + +<P> +Farrel found Don Nicolás Sandoval, the sheriff, by riding straight to a +column of smoke he saw rising from a grove of oaks on a flat hilltop. +</P> + +<P> +"What do you mean by camping out here, Don Nicolás?" Farrel demanded as +he rode up. "Since when has it become the fashion to await a formal +invitation to the hospitality of the Rancho Palomar?" +</P> + +<P> +"I started to ride down to the hacienda at sunset last night," Don +Nicolás replied, "but a man on foot and carrying a rifle and a blanket +came over the hills to the south. I watched him through my binoculars. +He came down into the wash of the San Gregorio—and I did not see him +come out. So I knew he was camped for the night in the willow thickets +of the river bed; that he was a stranger in the country, else he would +have gone up to your hacienda for the night; that his visit spelled +danger to you, else why did he carry a rifle? +</P> + +<P> +"I went supperless, watching from the hillside to see if this stranger +would light a fire in the valley." +</P> + +<P> +"He did not?" Farrel queried. +</P> + +<P> +"Had he made a camp-fire, my boy, I would have accorded myself the +pleasure of an informal visit, incidentally ascertaining who he was and +what he wanted. I am very suspicious of strangers who make cold camps +in the San Gregorio. At daylight this morning I rode down the wash and +searched for his camp. I found where he had slept in the grass—also +this," and he drew from his pocket a single rifle cartridge. +"Thirty-two-forty caliber, Miguel," he continued, "with a soft-nose +bullet. I do not know of one in this county who shoots such a heavy +rifle. In the old days we used the .44 caliber, but nowadays, we +prefer nothing heavier than a .30 and many use a .35 caliber for deer." +</P> + +<P> +Farrel drew a 6 millimeter Mannlicher carbine from the gun scabbard on +his saddle, dropped five shells into the magazine, looked at his sights +and thrust the weapon back into its receptacle. "I think I ought to +have some more life insurance," he murmured, complacently. "By the +way, Don Nicolás, about how many sheep have I attached?" +</P> + +<P> +"Loustalot's foreman says nine thousand in round numbers." +</P> + +<P> +"Where is the sheep camp?" +</P> + +<P> +"Over yonder." Don Nicolás waved a careless hand toward the west. "I +saw their camp-fire last night." +</P> + +<P> +"I'm going over to give them the rush." +</P> + +<P> +"By all means, Miguel. If you run those Basques off the ranch I will +be able to return to town and leave my deputies in charge of these +sheep. Keep your eyes open, Miguel. <I>Adios, muchacho</I>!" +</P> + +<P> +Farrel jogged away with Pablo at his heels. Half an hour later he had +located the sheep camp and ridden to it to accost the four bewhiskered +Basque shepherds who, surrounded by their dogs, sullenly watched his +approach. +</P> + +<P> +"Who is the foreman?" Don Mike demanded in English as he rode. +</P> + +<P> +"I am, you ———— ———— ————," one of the Basques replied, +briskly. "I don't have for ask who are you. I know." +</P> + +<P> +"Mebbeso some day, you forget," Pablo cried. "I will give you +something for make you remember, pig." The old majordomo was riding +the black mare. A touch of the spur, a bound, and she was beside +Loustalot's foreman, with Pablo cutting the fellow furiously over the +head and face with his heavy quirt. The other three sheepmen ran for +the tent, but Don Mike spurred the gray in between them and their +objective, at the same time drawing his carbine. +</P> + +<P> +There was no further argument. The sheepherders' effects were soon +transferred to the backs of three burros and, driving the little +animals ahead of them, the Basques moved out. Farrel and Don Nicolás +followed them to the boundaries of the ranch and shooed them out +through a break in the fence. +</P> + +<P> +"Regarding that stranger who camped last night in the valley, Don +Miguel. Would it not be well to look into his case?" +</P> + +<P> +Don Mike nodded. "We will ride up the valley, Pablo, as if we seek +cattle; if we find this fellow we will ask him to explain." +</P> + +<P> +"That is well," the old Indian agreed, and dropped back to his +respectful position in his master's rear. As they topped the ridge +that formed the northern buttress of the San Gregorio, Pablo rode to +the left and started down the hill through a draw covered with a thick +growth of laurel, purple lilac, a few madone trees and an occasional +oak. He knew that a big, five-point buck had its habitat here and it +was Pablo's desire to jump this buck out and thus afford his master a +glimpse of the trophy that awaited him later in the year. +</P> + +<P> +From the valley below a rifle cracked. Pablo slid out of his saddle +with the ease of a youth and lay flat on the ground beside the trail. +But no bullet whined up the draw or struck near him, wherefore he knew +that he was not the object of an attack; yet there was wild pounding of +his heart when the rifle spoke again and again. +</P> + +<P> +The thud of hoofs smote his ear sharply, so close was he to the ground. +Slowly Pablo raised his head. Over the hog's back which separated the +draw in which Pablo lay concealed from the draw down which Don Miguel +had ridden, the gray horse came galloping—riderless—and Pablo saw the +stock of the rifle projecting from the scabbard. The runaway plunged +into the draw some fifteen yards in front of Pablo, found a cow-trail +leading down it and disappeared into the valley. +</P> + +<P> +Pablo's heart swelled with agony. "It has happened!" he murmured. +"Ah, Mother of God! It has happened!" +</P> + +<P> +Two more shots in rapid succession sounded from the valley. "He makes +certain of his kill," thought Pablo. After a while he addressed the +off front foot of the black mare. "I will do likewise." +</P> + +<P> +He started crawling on his belly up out of the draw to the crest of the +hog's back. He had an impression, amounting almost to a certainty, +that the assassin in the valley had not seen him riding down the draw, +otherwise he would not have opened fire on Don Miguel. He would have +bided his time and chosen an occasion when there would be no witnesses. +</P> + +<P> +For an hour he waited, watching, grieving, weeping a little. From the +draw where Don Miguel lay no sound came forth. Pablo tried hard to +erase from his mind a vision of what he would find when, his primal +duty of vengeance, swift and complete, accomplished, he should go down +into that draw. His tear-dimmed, bloodshot eyes searched the +valley—ah, what was that? A cow, a deer or a man? Surely something +had moved in the brush at the edge of the river wash. +</P> + +<P> +Pablo rubbed the moisture from his eyes and looked again. A man was +crossing the wash on foot and he carried a rifle. A few feet out in +the wash he paused, irresolute, turned back, and knelt in the sand. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, blessed Mother of God!" Pablo almost sobbed, joyously. "I will +burn six candles in thy honor and keep flowers on thy altar at the +Mission for a year!" +</P> + +<P> +Again the man stood up and started across the wash. He no longer had +his rifle. "It is as I thought," Pablo soliloquized. "He has buried +the rifle in the sand." +</P> + +<P> +Pablo watched the man start resolutely across the three-mile stretch of +flat ground between the river and the hills to the south. Don Nicolás +Sandoval had remarked that the stranger had come in over the hills to +the south. Very well! Believing himself undetected, he would depart +in the same direction. The Rancho Palomar stretched ten miles to the +south and it would be a strange coincidence if, in that stretch of +rolling, brushy country, a human being should cross his path. +</P> + +<P> +The majordomo quickly crawled back into the draw where the black mare +patiently awaited him. Leading her, he started cautiously down, taking +advantage of every tuft of cover until, arrived at the foot of the +draw, he discovered that some oaks effectually screened his quarry from +sight. Reasoning quite correctly that the same oaks as effectually +screened him from his quarry, Pablo mounted and galloped straight +across country for his man. +</P> + +<P> +He rode easily, for he was saving the mare's speed for a purpose. The +fugitive, casting a guilty look to the rear, saw him coming and paused, +irresolute, but observing no evidences of precipitate haste, continued +his retreat, which (Pablo observed, grimly) was casual now, as if he +desired to avert suspicion. +</P> + +<P> +Pablo pulled the mare down to a trot, to a walk. He could afford to +take his time and it was not part of his plan to bungle his work by +undue baste. The fugitive was crossing through a patch of lilac and +Pablo desired to overhaul him in a wide open space beyond, so he urged +the mare to a trot again and jogged by on a parallel course, a hundred +yards distant. +</P> + +<P> +"<I>Buena dias, señor</I>," he called, affably, and waved his hand at the +stranger, who waved back. +</P> + +<P> +On went the old majordomo, across the clear space and into the oaks +beyond. The fugitive, his suspicions now completely lulled, followed +and when he was quite in the center of this chosen ground, Pablo +emerged from the shelter of the oaks and bore down upon him. The mare +was at a fast lope and Pablo's rawhide riata was uncoiled now; the loop +swung in slow, fateful circles——— +</P> + +<P> +There could be no mistaking his purpose. With a cry that was curiously +animal-like, the man ran for the nearest brush. Twenty feet from him, +Pablo made his cast and shrieked exultantly as the loop settled over +his prey. A jerk and it was fast around the fellow's mid-riff; a half +hitch around the pommel, a touch of a huge Mexican spur to the flank of +the fleet little black thoroughbred and Pablo Artelan was headed for +home! He picked his way carefully in order that he might not snag in +the bushes that which he dragged behind him, and he leaned forward in +the saddle to equalize the weight of the THING that bumped and leaped +and slid along the ground behind him. There had been screams at first, +mingled with Pablo's exultant shouts of victory, but by the time the +river was reached there was no sound but a scraping, slithering +one—the sound of the vengeance of Pablo Artelan. +</P> + +<P> +When he reached the wagon road he brought the mare to a walk. He did +not look back, for he knew his power; the scraping, slithering sound +was music to his ears; it was all the assurance he desired. As calmly +as, during the spring round-up, he dragged a calf up to the branding +fire, he dragged his victim up into the front yard of the Rancho +Palomar and paused before the patio gate. +</P> + +<P> +"Ho! Señor Parker!" he shouted. "Come forth. I have something for +the <I>señor</I>. Queeck, <I>Señor</I>!" +</P> + +<P> +The gate opened and John Parker stepped out. "Hello, Pablo! What's +all the row about?" +</P> + +<P> +Pablo turned in his saddle and pointed. "<I>Mira</I>! Look!" he croaked. +</P> + +<P> +"Good God!" Parker cried. "What is that?" +</P> + +<P> +"Once he use' for be one Jap. One good friend of you, I theenk, Señor +Parker. He like for save you much trouble, I theenk, so he keel my Don +Mike—an' for that I have—ah, but you see! An' now, señor, eet is all +right for take the Rancho Palomar! Take eet, take eet! Ees nobody for +care now—nobody! Eef eet don' be for you daughter I don't let you +have eet. No, sir, I keel it you so queeck—but my Don Mike hes never +forget hes one great <I>caballero</I>—so Pablo Artelan mus' not forget, +too—you sleep in theese hacienda, you eat the food—ah, señor, I am so +'shame' for you—and my Don Mike—-hees dead—hees dead———" +</P> + +<P> +He slid suddenly off the black mare and lay unconscious in the dust +beside her. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap24"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XXIV +</H3> + + +<P> +Once again a tragic scene had been enacted under the shade of the +catalpa tree before the Farrel hacienda. The shock of a terrible, +unexpected trend of events heralded by the arrival of Pablo Artelan and +his victim had, seemingly, paralyzed John Parker mentally and +physically. He felt again a curious cold, weak, empty feeling in his +breast. It was the concomitant of defeat; he had felt it twice before +when he had been overwhelmed and mangled by the wolves of Wall Street. +</P> + +<P> +He was almost nauseated. Not at sight of the dusty, bloody, shapeless +bundle that lay at the end of Pablo's riata, but with the realization +that, indirectly, he had been responsible for all of this. +</P> + +<P> +Pablo's shrill, agonized denunciation had fallen upon deaf ears, once +the old majordomo had conveyed to Parker the information of Don Mike's +death. +</P> + +<P> +"The rope—take it off!" he protested to the unconscious Pablo. "It's +cutting him in two. He looks like a link of sausage! Ugh! A Jap! +Horrible! I'm smeared—I can't explain—nobody in this country will +believe me—Pablo will kill me———" +</P> + +<P> +He sat down on the bench under the catalpa tree, covered his face with +his hands and closed his eyes. When he ventured again to look up, he +observed that Pablo, in falling from his horse, had caught one huge +Mexican spur on the cantle of his saddle and was suspended by the heel, +grotesquely, like a dead fowl. The black mare, a trained roping horse, +stood patiently, her feet braced a little, still keeping a strain on +the riata. +</P> + +<P> +Parker roused himself. With his pocket knife he cut the spur strap, +eased the majordomo to the ground, carried him to the bench and +stretched him out thereon. Then, grasping the mare by the bridle, he +led her around the adobe wall; he shuddered inwardly as he heard the +steady, slithering sound behind her. +</P> + +<P> +"Got to get that Thing out of the way," he mumbled. The great barn +door was open; from within he could hear his chauffeur whistling. So +he urged the mare to a trot and got past the barn without having been +observed. An ancient straw stack stood in the rear of the barn and in +the shadow of this he halted, removed the riata from the pommel, +dragged the body close to the stack, and with a pitchfork he hastily +covered it with old, weather-beaten straw. All of this he accomplished +without any purpose more definite than a great desire to hide from his +wife and from his daughter this offense which Pablo had thrust upon him. +</P> + +<P> +He led the black mare into the barn and tied her. Then he returned to +Pablo. +</P> + +<P> +The old Indian was sitting up. At sight of Parker he commenced to +curse bitterly, in Spanish and English, this invader who had brought +woe upon the house of Farrel. But John Parker was a white man. +</P> + +<P> +"Shut up, you saddle-colored old idol," he roared, and shook Pablo +until the latter's teeth rattled together. "If the mischief is done it +can't be helped—and it was none of my making. Pull yourself together +and tell me where this killing occurred. We've got to get Don Miguel's +body." +</P> + +<P> +For answer Pablo snarled and tried to stab him, so Parker, recalling a +fragment of the athletic lore of his youth, got a wristlock on the old +man and took the dirk away from him. "Now then," he commanded, as he +bumped Pablo's head against the adobe wall, "you behave yourself and +help me find Don Miguel and bring him in." +</P> + +<P> +Pablo's fury suddenly left him; again he was the servant, respectful, +deferential to his master's guest. "Forgive me, <I>señor</I>," he muttered, +"I have been crazy in the head." +</P> + +<P> +"Not so crazy that you didn't do a good job on that Jap murderer. Come +now, old chap. Buck up! We can't go after him in my automobile. Have +you some sort of wagon?" +</P> + +<P> +"<I>Si, señor</I>." +</P> + +<P> +"Then come inside a moment. We both need a drink. We're shaking like +a pair of dotards." +</P> + +<P> +He picked up Pablo's dirk and give it back to the old man. Pablo +acknowledged this courtesy with a bow and followed to Parker's room, +where the latter poured two glasses of whisky. Silently they drank. +</P> + +<P> +"Gracias, <I>señor</I>. I go hitch up one team," Pablo promised, and +disappeared at once. +</P> + +<P> +For about ten minutes Parker remained in his room, thinking. His wife +and Kay had started, afoot, to visit the Mission shortly after Don Mike +and Pablo had left the ranch that morning, and for this Parker was duly +grateful to Providence. He shuddered to think what the effect upon +them would have been had they been present when Pablo made his +spectacular entrance; he rejoiced at an opportunity to get himself in +hand against the return of Kay and her mother to the ranch house. +</P> + +<P> +"That wretched Okada!" he groaned. "He concluded that the simplest and +easiest way to an immediate consummation of our interrupted deal would +be the removal of young Farrel. So he hired one of his countrymen to +do the job, believing or at least hoping, that suspicion would +naturally be aroused against that Basque, Loustalot, who is known to +have an old feud with the Farrels. Kate is right. I've trained with +white men all my life; the moment I started to train with pigmented +mongrels and Orientals I had to do with a new psychology, with +mongrelized moral codes—ah, God, that splendid, manly fellow killed by +the insatiable lust of an alien race for this land of his they covet! +God forgive me! And poor Kay———" +</P> + +<P> +He was near to tears now; fearful that he might be caught in a moment +of weakness, he fled to the barn and helped Pablo hitch a team of draft +horses to an old spring wagon. Pablo's customary taciturnity and +primitive stoicism had again descended upon him like a protecting +garment; his madness had passed and he moved around the team briskly +and efficiently. Parker climbed to the seat beside him as Pablo +gathered up the reins and started out of the farmyard at a fast trot. +</P> + +<P> +Ten minutes later they paused at the mouth of the draw down which +Farrel had been riding when fired upon. Pablo turned the team, tied +them to an oak tree and started up the draw at a swift dog trot, with +Parker at his heels. +</P> + +<P> +Jammed rather tightly in a narrow little dry water-course that ran +through the center of the draw they found the body of Don Mike. He was +lying face downward; Parker saw that flies already rosetted a wound +thick with blood clots on top of his head. +</P> + +<P> +"Poor, poor boy," Parker cried agonizedly. +</P> + +<P> +Pablo straddled the little watercourse, got a grip around his master's +body and lifted it out to Parker, who received it and laid the limp +form out on the grass. While he stood looking down at Don Mike's +white, relaxed face, Pablo knelt, made the sign of the cross and +commenced to pray for the peaceful repose of his roaster's soul. It +was a long prayer; Parker, waiting patiently for him to finish, did not +know that Pablo recited the litany for the dying. +</P> + +<P> +"Come, Pablo, my good fellow, you've prayed enough," he suggested +presently. "Help me carry Don Miguel down to the wagon—<I>Pablo, he's +alive</I>!" +</P> + +<P> +"Hah!" Pablo's exclamation was a sort of surprised bleat. "<I>Madre de +Cristo</I>! Look to me, Don Miguel. Ah, little dam' fool, you make +believe to die, no?" he charged hysterically. +</P> + +<P> +Don Mike's black eyes opened slightly and his slack lower jaw tightened +in a ghastly little grimace. The transported Pablo seized him and +shook him furiously, meanwhile deluging Don Mike with a stream of +affectionate profanity that fell from his lips like a benediction. +</P> + +<P> +"Listen," Don Mike murmured presently. "Pablo's new litany." +</P> + +<P> +"Rascal! Little, wicked heretic! Blood of the devil! Speak, Don +Miguel." +</P> + +<P> +"Shut up! Took your—-time—getting me—out—confounded +ditch—damned—lazy—beggar———" +</P> + +<P> +Pablo leaped to his feet, his dusky face radiant. +</P> + +<P> +"You hear!" he yelled. "Señor Parker, you hear those boy give to me +hell like old times, no?" +</P> + +<P> +"You ran—you <I>colorado maduro</I> good-for-nothing—left me stuck +in—ditch—let bushwhacker—get away—fix you for this, Pablo." +</P> + +<P> +Pablo's eyes popped in ecstasy. He grinned like a gargoyle. "You hear +those boy, <I>señor</I>?" he reiterated happily. "I tell you those boy he +like ol' Pablo. The night he come back he rub my head; yesterday he +poke the rib of me with the thumb—now pretty soon he say sometheeng, I +bet you." +</P> + +<P> +"Shut up, I tell you." Don Mike's voice, though very faint, was +petulant. "You're a total idiot. Find my horse—get rifle—trail that +man—who shot me—get him—damn your prayers—get him——" +</P> + +<P> +"Ah, Don Miguel," Pablo assured him in Spanish, in tones that were +prideful beyond measure, "that unfortunate fellow has been shaking +hands with the devil for the last forty-five minutes." +</P> + +<P> +Don Mike opened his eyes widely. He was rapidly regaining his full +consciousness. "Your work, Pablo?" +</P> + +<P> +"Mine—with the help of God, as your illustrious grandfather, the first +Don Miguel, would have said. But you are pleased to doubt me so I +shall show you the carcass of the animal. I roped him and dragged him +for two miles behind the black mare." +</P> + +<P> +Don Mike smiled and closed his eyes. "I will go home," he said +presently, and Pablo and Parker lifted him between them and carried him +down to the waiting wagon. Half an hour later he was stretched on his +bed at the hacienda, while Carolina washed his head with a solution of +warm water and lysol. John Parker, rejoiced beyond measure, stood +beside him and watched this operation with an alert and sympathetic eye. +</P> + +<P> +"That doesn't look like a bullet wound," he declared, after an +examination of the rent in Don Mike's scalp. "Resembles the wound made +by what reporters always refer to as 'some blunt instrument.' The +scalp is split but the flesh around the wound is swollen as from a +blow. You have a nice lump on your head, Farrel." +</P> + +<P> +"Aches terribly," Don Mike murmured. "I had dismounted to tighten my +cinch; going down hill the saddle had slid up on my horse's withers. I +was tucking in the latigo. When I woke up I was lying on my face, +wedged tightly in that little dry ditch; I was ill and dazed and too +weak to pull myself out; I was lying with my head down hill and I +suppose I lost consciousness again, after awhile. Pablo!" +</P> + +<P> +"<I>Si, señor</I>." +</P> + +<P> +"You caught the man who shot me. What did you do with him?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, those fellow plenty good and dead, Don Miguel." +</P> + +<P> +"He dragged the body home at the end of his rope," Parker explained. +"He thought you had been done for and he must have gone war mad. I +covered the body of the Jap with straw from that stack out by the barn." +</P> + +<P> +"Jap, eh?" Don Mike smiled. Then, after a long silence. "I suppose, +Mr. Parker, you understand now—" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, yes, Farrel. Please do not rub it in." +</P> + +<P> +"Okada wants the San Gregorio rather badly, doesn't he? Couldn't wait. +The enactment of that anti-alien land bill that will come up in the +legislature next year—do Mrs. Parker and your daughter know about this +attempt to assassinate me?" +</P> + +<P> +"No." +</P> + +<P> +"They must not know. Plant that Jap somewhere and do it quickly. +Confound you, Pablo, you should have known better than to drag your +kill home, like an old she-cat bringing in a gopher. As for my +head—well, I was thrown from my horse and struck on a sharp rock. The +ladies would be frightened and worried if they thought somebody was +gunning for me. When Bill Conway shows up with your spark plugs I'd be +obliged, Mr. Parker, if you'd run me in to El Toro. I'll have to have +my head tailored a trifle, I think." +</P> + +<P> +With a weak wave of his hand he dismissed everybody, so Parker and +Pablo adjourned to the stables to talk over the events of the morning. +Standing patiently at the corral gate they found the gray horse, +waiting to be unsaddled—a favor which Pablo proceeded at once to +extend. +</P> + +<P> +"<I>Mira</I>!" he called suddenly and directed Parser's attention to the +pommel of Don Mike's fancy saddle, The rawhide covering on the shank of +the pommel had been torn and scored and the steel beneath lay exposed. +"You see?" Pablo queried. "You understan', <I>señor</I>?" +</P> + +<P> +"No, I must confess I do not, Pablo." +</P> + +<P> +"Don Miguel is standing beside thees horse. He makes tighter the +saddle; he is tying those latigo and he have the head bent leetle hit +while he pull those latigo through the ring. Bang! Those Jap shoot at +Don Miguel. He miss, but the bullet she hit thees pommel, she go flat +against the steel, she bounce off and hit Don Miguel on top the head. +The force for keel heem is use' up when the bullet hit thees pommel, +but still those bullet got plenty force for knock Don Miguel seelly, +no?" +</P> + +<P> +"Spent ball, eh? I think you're right, Pablo." +</P> + +<P> +Pablo relapsed into one of his infrequent Gringo solecisms. "You bet +you my life you know eet," he said. +</P> + +<P> +John Parker took a hundred dollar bill from his pocket. "Pablo," he +said with genuine feeling, "you're a splendid fellow. I know you don't +like me, but perhaps that is because you do not know me very well. Don +Miguel knows I had nothing to do with this attempt to kill him, and if +Don Miguel bears me no ill-will, I'm sure you should not. I wish you +would accept this hundred dollar bill, Pablo?" +</P> + +<P> +Pablo eyed the bill askance. "What for?" he demanded. +</P> + +<P> +"For the way you handled that murdering Jap. Pablo, that was a bully +job of work. Please accept this bill. If I didn't like you I would +not offer it to you." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, I guess Carolina mebbeso she can use eet. But first I ask Don +Miguel if eet is all right for me take eet." He departed for the house +to return presently with an anticipatory smile on his dusky +countenance. "Don Miguel say to me, <I>señor</I>: 'Pablo, any people she's +stay my house he's do what she please.' <I>Gracias</I>, Señor Parker." And +he pouched the bill. "<I>Mille gracias, señor</I>." +</P> + +<P> +"Pray, do not mention it, Pablo." +</P> + +<P> +"All right," Pablo agreed. "Eef you don't like eet, well, I don' tell +somebody!" +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap25"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XXV +</H3> + + +<P> +Bill Conway driving up the San Gregorio in his prehistoric automobile, +overtook Kay and her mother walking home from the Mission, and drove +them the remainder of the distance back to the hacienda. Arrived here, +old Conway resurrected the stolen spark plugs and returned them to +Parker's chauffeur, after which he invited himself to luncheon. +Apparently his raid of the night previous rested lightly on his +conscience, and Parker's failure to quarrel with him lifted him +immediately out of any fogs of apprehension that may have clouded his +sunny soul. +</P> + +<P> +"Hello, Conway," Parker greeted him, as the old contractor came into +the dining room and hung his battered old hat on a wall peg. "Did you +bring back my spark plugs?" +</P> + +<P> +"Did better'n that," Conway retorted. "The porcelain on one plug was +cracked and sooner or later you were bound to have trouble with it. So +I bought you a new one." +</P> + +<P> +"Do any good for yourself in El Toro this morning?" +</P> + +<P> +"Nope. Managed to put over a couple of deals that will help the boy +out a little, though. Attached your bank account and your bank stock. +I would have plastered your two automobiles, but that tender-hearted +Miguel declared that was carrying a grudge too far. By the way, where +is our genial young host?" +</P> + +<P> +"Horse bucked him off this morning. He lit on a rock and ripped a +furrow in his sinful young head. So he's sleeping off a headache." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, is he badly hurt?" Kay cried anxiously. +</P> + +<P> +"Not fatally," Parker replied with a faintly knowing smile. "But he's +weak and dizzy and he's lost a lot of blood; every time he winks for +the next month his head will ache, however." +</P> + +<P> +"Which horse policed him?" Bill Conway queried casually. +</P> + +<P> +"The gray one—his father's old horse." +</P> + +<P> +"Hum-m-m!" murmured Conway and pursued the subject no further, nor did +he evince the slightest interest in the answers which Parker framed +glibly to meet the insistent demand for information from his wife and +daughter. The meal concluded, he excused himself and sought Pablo, of +whom he demanded and received a meticulous account of the "accident" to +Miguel Farrel. For Bill Conway knew that the gray horse never bucked +and that Miguel Farrel was a hard man to throw. +</P> + +<P> +"Guess I'll have to sit in at this game," he decided, and forthwith +climbed into his rattletrap automobile and returned to El Toro. +</P> + +<P> +During the drive in he surrendered his mind to a contemplation of all +of the aspects of the case, and arrived at the following conclusions: +</P> + +<P> +Item. Don Nicolás Sandoval had seen the assassin walking in from the +south about sunset the day previous. If the fellow had walked all the +way across country from La Questa valley he must have started about two +P.M. +</P> + +<P> +Item. The Potato Baron had left the Farrel hacienda about one o'clock +the same day and had, doubtless, arrived in El Toro about two o'clock. +Evidently he had communicated with the man from La Questa valley +(assuming that Don Miguel's assailant had come from there) by telephone +from El Toro. +</P> + +<P> +Arrived in El Toro, Bill Conway drove to the sheriff's office. Don +Nicolás Sandoval had returned an hour previous from the Rancho Palomar +and to him Conway related the events of the morning. "Now, Nick," he +concluded, "you drift over to the telephone office and in your official +capacity cast your eye over the record of long distance telephone calls +yesterday afternoon and question the girl on duty." +</P> + +<P> +"<I>Bueno</I>!" murmured Don Nicolás and proceeded at once to the telephone +office. Ten minutes later he returned. +</P> + +<P> +"Okada talked to one Kano Ugichi, of La Questa, at 2:08 yesterday +afternoon," he reported. +</P> + +<P> +"Considerable water will run under the bridges before Kano Ugichi +returns to the bosom of his family," Conway murmured sympathetically. +"He's so badly spoiled, Nick, we've decided to call him a total loss +and not put up any headstone to his memory. It is Farrel's wish that +the matter be forgotten by everybody concerned." +</P> + +<P> +"I have already forgotten it, my friend," the urbane Don Nicolás +replied graciously, and Bill Conway departed forthwith for the Hotel de +Las Rosas. +</P> + +<P> +"Got a Jap name of Okada stopping here?" he demanded, and was informed +that Mr. Okada occupied room 17, but that he was ill and could not be +seen. +</P> + +<P> +"He'll see me," quoth Bill Conway, and clumped up the stairs. He +rapped peremptorily on the door of room 17, then tried the knob. The +door opened and the old contractor stepped into the room to find the +Potato Baron sitting up in bed, staring at him. Uttering no word, Bill +Conway strode to the bed, seized the Japanese by the throat and +commenced to choke him with neatness and dispatch. When the man's face +was turning purple and his eyes rolling wildly, Conway released his +death-grip and his victim fell back on the mattress, whereupon Bill +Conway sat down on the edge of the bed and watched life surge back into +the little brown man. +</P> + +<P> +"If you let one little peep out of you, Okada," he threatened—and +snarled ferociously. +</P> + +<P> +"Please, please," Okada pleaded. "I no unnerstan'. 'Scuse, please. +You make one big mistake, yes, I zink so." +</P> + +<P> +"I do, indeed. I permit you to live, which I wouldn't do if I knew +where to hide your body. Listen to me, Okada. You sent a countryman +of yours from the La Questa valley over to the Rancho Palomar to kill +Don Miguel Farrel. I have the man's name, I know the hour you +telephoned to him, I know exactly what you said to him and how much you +paid him to do the job. Well, this friend of yours overplayed his +hand; he didn't succeed in killing Farrel, but he did succeed in +getting himself captured." +</P> + +<P> +He paused, with fine dramatic instinct, to watch the effect of this +broadside. A faint nervous twitch of the chin and the eyelids—then +absolute immobility. The Potato Baron had assumed the "poker face" of +all Orientals—wherefore Bill Conway knew the man was on his guard and +would admit nothing. So he decided not to make any effort to elicit +information, but to proceed on the theory that everything was known to +him. +</P> + +<P> +"Naturally," he continued, "that man Pablo has ways and means of making +even a stubborn Jap tell everything he knows. Now listen, O child of +Nippon, to the white man's words of wisdom. You're going to depart +from El Toro in a general northerly direction and you're going to do it +immediately if not sooner. And you're never coming back. The day you +do, that day you land in the local calaboose with a charge of +conspiracy to commit murder lodged against you. We have the witnesses +to prove our case and any time you're tried by a San Marcos County jury +before a San Marcos County judge you'll rot in San Quentin for life. +And further: If Miguel Farrel should, within the next two years, die +out of his own bed and with his boots on, you will be killed on general +principles, whether you're guilty or not. Do I make myself clear or +must I illustrate the point with motion pictures?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, sir. 'Scuse, please. Yes, sir, I zink I go very quick, sir." +</P> + +<P> +"Three cheers! The sooner the quicker—the next train, let us say. +I'll be at the station to see you off." +</P> + +<P> +He was as good as his word. The Potato Baron, mounting painfully the +steps of the observation car, made hasty appraisal of the station +platform and observed Bill Conway swinging his old legs from his perch +on an express truck. He favored Okada with a very deliberate nod and a +sweeping, semi-military salute of farewell. +</P> + +<P> +When the train pulled out, the old contractor slid off the express +truck and waddled over to his automobile. "Well, Liz," he addressed +that interesting relic, "I'll bet a red apple I've put the fear of +Buddha in that Jap's soul. He won't try any more tricks in San Marcos +County. He certainly did assimilate my advice and drag it out of town +<I>muy pronto</I>. Well, Liz, as the feller says: 'The wicked flee when no +man pursueth and a troubled conscience addeth speed to the hind legs.'" +</P> + +<P> +As he was driving out of town to the place of his labors at Agua +Caliente basin, he passed the Parker limousine driving in. Between +John Parker's wife and John Parker's daughter, Don Miguel José Farrel +sat with white face and closed eyes. In the seat beside his chauffeur +John Parker sat, half turned and gazing at Don Miguel with troubled +eyes. +</P> + +<P> +"That girl's sweeter than a royal flush," Bill Conway murmured. "I +wonder if she's good for a fifty thousand dollar touch to pay my cement +bill pending the day I squeeze it out of her father? Got to have +cement to build a dam—got to have cash to get cement—got to have a +dam to save the Rancho Palomar—got to have the Rancho Palomar before +we can pull off a wedding—got to pull off a wedding in order to be +happy—got to be happy or we all go to hell together… Well… +I'm going down to Miguel's place to dinner to-night. I'll ask her." +</P> + +<P> +The entire Parker family was present when the doctor in El Toro washed +and disinfected Farrel's wound and, at the suggestion of Kay, made an +X-ray photograph of his head. The plate, when developed, showed a +small fracture, the contemplation of which aroused considerable +interest in all present, with the exception of the patient. Don Mike +was still dizzy; because his vision was impaired he kept his eyes +closed; he heard a humming noise as if a lethargic bumble bee had taken +up his residence inside the Farrel ears. Kay, observing him closely, +realized that he was very weak, that only by the exercise of a very +strong will had he succeeded in sitting up during the journey in from +the ranch. His brow was cold and wet with perspiration, his breathing +shallow; his dark, tanned face was now a greenish gray. +</P> + +<P> +The girl saw a shadow of deep apprehension settle over her father's +face as the doctor pointed to the fracture. "Any danger?" she heard +him whisper, +</P> + +<P> +The doctor shook his head. "Nothing to worry about. An operation will +not be necessary. But he's had a narrow squeak. With whom has he been +fighting?" +</P> + +<P> +"Thrown from his horse and struck his head on a rock," Parker replied +glibly. +</P> + +<P> +Kay saw the doctor's eyebrows lift slightly. "Did he tell you that was +what happened?" +</P> + +<P> +Parker hesitated a moment and nodded an affirmative. +</P> + +<P> +"Wound's too clean for that story to impress me," the doctor whispered. +"Not a speck of foreign matter in it. Moreover, the wound is almost on +top of his head. Now, if he had been thrown from a horse and had +struck on top of his head on a rock with sufficient force to lacerate +his scalp and produce a minor fracture, he would, undoubtedly, have +crushed his skull more thoroughly or broken his neck. Also, his face +would have been marred more or less! And if that isn't good reasoning, +I might add that Miguel Farrel is one of the two or three men in this +world who have ridden Cyclone, the most famous outlaw horse in America." +</P> + +<P> +Parker shrugged and, by displaying no interest in the doctor's +deductions, brought the conversation to a close. +</P> + +<P> +That the return trip to the ranch, in Don Mike's present condition, was +not to be thought of, was apparent from the patient's condition. He +was, therefore, removed to the single small hospital which El Toro +boasted, and after seeing him in charge of a nurse the Parker family +returned to the ranch. Conversation languished during the trip; a +disturbed conscience on the part of the father, and on the part of Kay +and her mother an intuition, peculiar to their sex and aroused by the +doctor's comments, that events of more than ordinary portent had +occurred that day, were responsible for this. +</P> + +<P> +At the ranch Parker found his attorney who had motored out from El +Toro, waiting to confer with him regarding Bill Conway's adroit +manoeuver of the morning. Mrs. Parker busied herself with some fancy +work while her daughter sought the Farrel library and pretended to +read. An atmosphere of depression appeared to have settled over the +rancho; Kay observed that even Pablo moved about in a furtive manner; +he cleaned and oiled his rifle and tested the sights with shots at +varying ranges. Carolina's face was grave and her sweet falsetto voice +was not raised in song once during the afternoon. +</P> + +<P> +About four o'clock when the shadows began to lengthen, Kay observed +Pablo riding forth on his old pinto pony. Before him on the saddle he +carried a pick and shovel and in reply to her query as to what he +purposed doing, he replied that he had to clean out a spring where the +cattle were accustomed to drink. So she returned to the library and +Pablo repaired to a willow thicket in the sandy wash of the San +Gregorio and dug a grave. That night, at twilight, while the family +and servants were at dinner, Pablo dragged his problem down to this +grave, with the aid of the pinto pony, and hid it forever from the +sight of men. Neither directly nor indirectly was his exploit ever +referred to again and no inquiry was ever instituted to fathom the +mystery of the abrupt disappearance of Kano Ugichi. Indeed, the sole +regret at his untimely passing was borne by Pablo, who, shrinking from +the task of removing his riata from his victim (for he had a primitive +man's horror of touching the dead), was forced to bury his dearest +possession with the adventurer from La Questa—a circumstance which +served still further to strengthen his prejudice against the Japanese +race. +</P> + +<P> +The following morning Pablo saddled Panchito for Kay and, at her +request, followed her, in the capacity of groom, to Bill Conway's camp +at Agua Caliente basin. The old schemer was standing in the door of +his rough temporary office when Kay rode up; he advanced to meet her. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, young lady," he greeted her, "what's on your mind this morning +in addition to that sassy little hat." +</P> + +<P> +"A number of things. I want to know what really happened to Mr. Farrel +yesterday forenoon." +</P> + +<P> +"My dear girl! Why do you consult me?" +</P> + +<P> +She leaned from her horse and lowered her voice. "Because I'm your +partner and between partners there should be no secrets." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, we're supposed to keep it a secret, just to save you and your +mother from worrying, but I'll tell you in confidence if you promise +not to tell a soul I told you." +</P> + +<P> +"I promise." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, then, that scoundrel, Okada, sent a Jap over from La Questa +valley to assassinate Miguel and clear the way for your father to +acquire this ranch without further legal action and thus enable their +interrupted land deal to be consummated." +</P> + +<P> +"My father was not a party to that—oh, Mr. Conway, surely you do not +suspect for a moment———" +</P> + +<P> +"Tish! Tush! Of course not. That's why Miguel wanted it given out +that his horse had policed him. Wanted to save you the resultant +embarrassment." +</P> + +<P> +"The poor dear! And this wretch from La Questa shot him?" +</P> + +<P> +"Almost." +</P> + +<P> +"What became of the assassin?" +</P> + +<P> +Bill Conway pursed his tobacco-stained lips and whistled a few bars of +"Listen to the Mocking Bird." Subconsciously the words of the song +came to Kay's mind. +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> + She's sleeping in the valley,<BR> + In the valley,<BR> + She's sleeping in the valley,<BR> + And the mocking bird is singing where she lies. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm afraid I don't want to discuss that boy and his future movements, +Miss Parker," he sighed presently. "I might compromise a third party. +In the event of a show-down I do not wish to be forced under oath to +tell what I know—or suspect. However, I am in a position to assure +you that Oriental activities on this ranch have absolutely ceased. Mr. +Okada has been solemnly assured that, in dealing with certain white +men, they will insist upon an eye for an optic and a tusk for a tooth; +he knows that if he starts anything further he will go straight to that +undiscovered country where the woodbine twineth and the whangdoodle +mourneth for its mate." +</P> + +<P> +"What has become of Okada?" +</P> + +<P> +"He has dragged it out of here—drifted and went hence—for keeps." +</P> + +<P> +"Are you quite sure?" +</P> + +<P> +"Cross my heart and hope to die." With an unclean thumb Mr. Conway +drew a large X on the geometrical center of his ample circumference. +"When you've been in the contracting business as long as I have, Miss +Parker," he continued sagely, "you'll learn never to leave important +details to a straw boss. Attend to 'em yourself—and get your regular +ration of sleep. That's my motto." +</P> + +<P> +She beamed gratefully upon him. "Need any money, Bill, old timer?" she +flashed at him suddenly, with delightful camaraderie. +</P> + +<P> +"There should be no secrets between partners. I do." +</P> + +<P> +"<I>Quanto</I>?" +</P> + +<P> +"<I>Cinquenta mille pesos oro, señorita</I>." +</P> + +<P> +"Help!" +</P> + +<P> +"Fifty thousand bucks, iron men, simoleons, smackers, dollars———" +</P> + +<P> +She reached down and removed a fountain pen from his upper vest pocket. +Then she drew a check book and, crooking her knee over Panchito's neck +and using that knee for a desk, she wrote him a check on a New York +bank for fifty thousand dollars. +</P> + +<P> +"See here," Bill Conway demanded, as she handed him the check, "how +much of a roll you got, young woman?" +</P> + +<P> +"About two hundred thousand in cash and half a million in Liberty +bonds. When I was about five years old my uncle died and left me his +estate, worth about a hundred thousand. It has grown under my father's +management. He invested heavily in Steel Common, at the outbreak of +the war, and sold at the top of the market just before the armistice +was signed." +</P> + +<P> +"Well," Conway sighed, "there is a little justice in the world, after +all. Here at last, is one instance where the right person to handle +money gets her hands on a sizable wad of it. But what I want to know, +my dear young lady, is this: Why purchase philanthropy in fifty +thousand dollar installments? If you want to set that boy's mind at +ease, loan him three hundred thousand dollars to take up the mortgage +your father holds on his ranch; then take a new mortgage in your own +name to secure the loan. If you're bound to save him in the long run, +why keep the poor devil in suspense?" +</P> + +<P> +She made a little moue of distaste. "I loathe business. The loaning +of money on security—the taking advantage of another's distress. Mr. +Bill, it never made a hit with me. I'm doing this merely because I +realize that my father's course, while strictly legal, is not kind. I +refuse to permit him to do that sort of thing to a Medal of Honor man." +He noticed a pretty flush mount to her lovely cheeks. "It isn't +sporty, Mr. Bill Conway. However, it isn't nice to tell one's +otherwise lovable father that he's a poor sport and a Shylock, is it? +I cannot deliberately pick a fight with my father by interfering in his +business affairs, can I? Also, it seems to me that Don Mike Farrel's +pride is too high to permit of his acceptance of a woman's pity. I do +not wish him to be under obligation to me. He might misconstrue my +motive—oh, you understand, don't you? I'm sure I'm in an extremely +delicate position." +</P> + +<P> +He nodded sagely. "Nevertheless," he pursued, "he <I>will</I> be under +obligation to you." +</P> + +<P> +"He will never know it. I depend upon you to keep my secret. He will +think himself under obligation to you—and you're such an old and dear +friend. Men accept obligations from each other and think nothing of +it. By the way, I hold you responsible for the return of that fifty +thousand dollars, not Don Mike Farrel. You are underwriting his battle +with my father, are you not?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, I am," he retorted briskly, "and I've got more conceit than a +barber's cat for daring to do it. Wait a minute and I'll give you my +promissory note. I'm paying seven per cent for bank accommodations +lately. That rate of interest suit you?" +</P> + +<P> +She nodded and followed him to his office, where he laboriously wrote +and signed a promissory note in her favor. Pablo, remaining politely +out of sound of their conversation, wondered vaguely what they were up +to. +</P> + +<P> +"Don Mike has told us something of the indolent, easy-going natures of +his people," Kay continued, as she tucked the note in her coat pocket. +"I have wondered if, should, he succeed in saving his ranch without too +great an expenditure of effort, he would continue to cast off the spell +of 'the splendid, idle forties' and take his place in a world of alert +creators and producers. Do you not think, Mr. Bill, that he will be +the gainer through my policy of keeping him in ignorance of my part in +the re-financing of his affairs—if he dare not be certain of victory +up to the last moment? Of course it would be perfectly splendid if he +could somehow manage to work out his own salvation, but of course, if +he is unable to do that his friends must do it for him. I think it +would be perfectly disgraceful to permit a Medal of Honor man to be +ruined, don't you, Mr. Bill?" +</P> + +<P> +"Say, how long have you known this fellow Miguel?" +</P> + +<P> +"Seventy-two hours, more or less." +</P> + +<P> +He considered. "Your father's nerve has been pretty badly shaken by +the Jap's attempt to kill Miguel. He feels about that pretty much as a +dog does when he's caught sucking eggs. Why not work on your father +now while he's in an anti-Jap mood? You might catch him on the +rebound, so to speak. Take him over to La Questa valley some day this +week and show him a little Japan; show him what the San Gregorio will +look like within five years if he persists. Gosh, woman, you have some +influence with him haven't you?" +</P> + +<P> +"Very little in business affairs, I fear." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, you work on him, anyhow, and maybe he'll get religion and renew +Miguel's mortgage. Argue that point about giving a Medal of Honor man +another chance." +</P> + +<P> +The girl shook her head. "It would be useless," she assured him. "He +has a curious business code and will not abandon it. He will only +quote some platitude about mixing sentiment and business." +</P> + +<P> +"Then I suppose the battle will have to go the full twenty rounds. +Well, Miss Parker, we're willing. We've already drawn first blood and +with your secret help we ought to about chew the tail off your old man." +</P> + +<P> +"Cheerio." She held out her dainty little gloved hand to him. "See me +when you need more money, Mr. Bill. And remember! If you tell on me +I'll never, never forgive you." +</P> + +<P> +He bent over her hand and kissed it. His caress was partly reverence, +partly a habit of courtliness surviving from a day that is done in +California, for under that shabby old tweed suit there beat the gallant +heart of a true cavalier. +</P> + +<A NAME="img-278"></A> +<CENTER> +<IMG SRC="images/img-278_a.jpg" ALT="The girl—Kay Parker." BORDER="2" WIDTH="422" HEIGHT="639"> +<H4> +[Illustration: The girl—Kay Parker.] +</H4> +</CENTER> + +<P> +When Miss Parker had ridden away with Pablo at her heels, Bill Conway +unburdened himself of a slightly ribald little chanson entitled: "What +Makes the Wild Cat Wild?" In the constant repetition of this query it +appeared that the old Californian sought the answer to a riddle not +even remotely connected with the mystifying savagery of non-domestic +felines. +</P> + +<P> +Suddenly he slapped his thigh. "Got it," he informed the payroll he +had been trying to add for half an hour. "Got it! She does love him. +Her explanation of her action is good but not good enough for me. +Medal of Honor man! Rats. She could loan him the money to pay her +father, on condition that her father should never know the source of +the aid, but if they reduced their association to a business basis he +would have to decide between the ranch and her. She knows how he loves +this seat of his ancestors—she fears for the decision. And if he +decided for the ranch there would be no reasonable excuse for the +Parker family to stick around, would there? There would not. So he is +not to be lost sight of for a year. Yes, of course that's it. +Methinks the lady did protest too much. God bless her. I wonder what +he thinks of her. One can never tell. It might be just her luck to +fail to make a hit with him. Oh, Lord, if that happened I'd shoot him, +I would for a fact. Guess I'll drop in at the ranch some day next week +and pump the young idiot… No, I'll not. My business is building +dams and bridges and concrete highways … well, I might take a +chance and sound him out … still, what thanks would I get … no, +I'll be shot if I will … oh, to the devil with thanks. If he don't +like it he can lump it…" +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> + "What makes the wild cat wild, boys,<BR> + Oh, what makes the wild cat wild?" +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap26"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XXVI +</H3> + + +<P> +It was fully two weeks before Miguel returned to the ranch from the +little hospital at El Toro. During that period the willows had already +started to sprout on the last abiding place of Kano Ugichi, the pain +had left the Farrel head and the Farrel attorney had had André +Loustalot up in the Superior Court, where he had won a drawn verdict. +The cash in bank was proved to have been deposited there by Loustalot +personally; it had been subject to his personal check, and was +accordingly adjudged to be his personal property and ordered turned +over to Miguel Farrel in partial liquidation of the ancient judgment +which Farrel held against the Basque. A preponderance of testimony, +however (Don Nicolás Sandoval swore it was all perjured and paid for) +indicated that but one quarter of the sheep found on the Rancho Palomar +belonged to Loustalot, the remainder being owned by his foreman and +employees. To Farrel, therefore, these sheep were awarded, and in some +occult manner Don Nicolás Sandoval selected them from the flock; then, +acting under instructions from Farrel, he sold the sheep back to +Loustalot at something like a dollar a head under the market value and +leased to the amazed Basque for one year the grazing privilege on the +Rancho Palomar. In return for the signing of this lease and the +payment of the lease money in advance, Farrel executed to Loustalot a +satisfaction in full of the unpaid portion of the judgment. "For," as +the sheriff remarked to Farrel, "while you hold the balance of that +judgment over this fellow's head your own head is in danger. It is +best to conciliate him, for you will never again have an opportunity to +levy against his assets." +</P> + +<P> +"I think you're right, Don Nicolás," Farrel agreed. "I can never feel +wholly safe until I strike a truce with that man. Tell him I'll give +him back his eight thousand dollar automobile if he will agree on his +own behalf and that of his employees, agents and friends, not to +bushwhack me or any person connected with me." +</P> + +<P> +"I have already made him a tentative offer to that effect, my boy, and, +now that the first flush of his rage is over, he is a coyote lacking +the courage to kill. He will agree to your proposal, and I shall take +occasion to warn him that if he should ever break his word while I am +living, I shall consider, in view of the fact that I am the mediator in +this matter, that he has broken faith with me, and I shall act +accordingly." +</P> + +<P> +The arrangement with Loustalot was therefore made, and immediately upon +his return to the ranch Farrel, knowing that the sheep would spoil his +range for the few hundred head of cattle that still remained of the +thousands that once had roamed El Palomar, rounded up these cattle and +sold them. And it was in the performance of this duty that he +discovered during the roundup, on the trail leading from the hacienda +to Agua Caliente basin, a rectangular piece of paper. It lay, somewhat +weather-stained, face up beside the trail, and because it resembled a +check, he leaned easily from his horse and picked it up. To his +amazement he discovered it to be a promissory note, in the sum of fifty +thousand dollars, in favor of Kay Parker and signed by William D. +Conway. +</P> + +<P> +Pablo was beating the thickets in the river bottom, searching out some +spring calves he knew were lurking there, when his master reined up +beside him. +</P> + +<P> +"Pablo," he demanded, "has Señor Conway been to the ranch during my +absence?" +</P> + +<P> +"No, Don Miguel, he has not." +</P> + +<P> +"Has Señorita Parker ridden Panchito over to Señor Conway's camp at +Agua Caliente basin?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, Don Miguel. I rode behind her, in case of accident." +</P> + +<P> +"What day was that?" +</P> + +<P> +Pablo considered. "The day after you were shot, Don Miguel." +</P> + +<P> +"Did you see Señorita Parker give Señor Conway a writing?" +</P> + +<P> +"I did, truly. She wrote from a small leathern book and tore out the +page whereon she wrote. In return Señor Conway made a writing and this +he gave to Señorita Parker who accepted it. +</P> + +<P> +"Thank you, Pablo. That is all I desired to know." And he was away +again, swinging his lariat and whooping joyously at the cattle. Pablo +watched narrowly. +</P> + +<P> +"Now whatever this mystery may be," he soliloquized, "the news I gave +Don Miguel has certainly not displeased him. Ah, he is a sharp one, +that boy. He learns everything and without effort, yet for all he +knows he talks but little. Can it be that he has the gift of second +sight? I wonder!" +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap27"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XXVII +</H3> + + +<P> +Kay Parker was seated on the bench under the catalpa tree when Miguel +Farrel rode up the palm-lined avenue to the hacienda, that night; his +face, as he dismounted before her, conveyed instantly to the girl the +impression that he was in a more cheerful and contented mood than she +had observed since that day she had first met him in uniform. +</P> + +<P> +She smiled a welcome. He swept off his hat and favored her with a bow +which appeared to Kay to be slightly more ceremonious than usual. +</P> + +<P> +"Your horse is tired," she remarked. "Are you?" +</P> + +<P> +"'Something accomplished, something done, has earned a night's +repose,'" he quoted cheerfully. "Rather a hard task to comb this ranch +for a few hundred head of cattle when the number of one's riders is +limited, but we have gotten the herd corraled at the old race-track." +He unbuckled his old leathern chaps, and stepped out of them, threw +them across the saddle and with a slap sent his horse away to the barn. +</P> + +<P> +"You're feeling quite yourself again?" she hazarded hopefully. +</P> + +<P> +"My foolish head doesn't bother me," he replied smilingly, "but my +equally foolish heart—" he heaved a gusty Castilian sigh and tried to +appear forlorn. +</P> + +<P> +"Filled with mixed metaphors," he added. "May I sit here with you?" +</P> + +<P> +She made room for him beside her on the bench. He seated himself, +leaned back against the bole of the catalpa tree and stretched his +legs, cramped from a long day in the saddle. The indolent gaze of his +black eyes roved over her approvingly before shifting to the shadowy +beauty of the valley and the orange-hued sky beyond, and a silence fell +between them. +</P> + +<P> +"I was thinking to-day," the girl said presently, "that you've been so +busy since your return you haven't had time to call on any of your old +friends." +</P> + +<P> +"That is true, Miss Parker." +</P> + +<P> +"You <I>have</I> called me Kay," she reminded him. "Wherefore this sudden +formality, Don Mike?" +</P> + +<P> +"My name is Miguel. You're right, Kay. Fortunately, all of my friends +called on me when I was in the hospital, and at that time I took pains +to remind them that my social activities would be limited for at least +a year." +</P> + +<P> +"Two of your friends called on mother and me today, Miguel." +</P> + +<P> +"Anita Sepulvida and her mother?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes. She's adorable." +</P> + +<P> +"They visited me in hospital. Very old friends—very dear friends. I +asked them to call on you and your mother. I wanted you to know Anita." +</P> + +<P> +"She's the most beautiful and charming girl I have ever met." +</P> + +<P> +"She <I>is</I> beautiful and charming. Her family, like mine, had become +more or less decayed about the time I enlisted, but fortunately her +mother had a quarter section of land down in Ventura County and when a +wild-cat oil operator on adjacent land brought in a splendid well, +Señora Sepulvida was enabled to dispose of her land at a thousand +dollars an acre and a royalty of one-eighth on all of the oil produced. +The first well drilled was a success and in a few years the Sepulvida +family will be far wealthier than it ever was. Meanwhile their ranch +here has been saved from loss by foreclosure. Old Don Juan, Anita's +father, is dead." +</P> + +<P> +"Anita is the only child, is she not?" +</P> + +<P> +He nodded. "Ma Sepulvida is a lady of the old school," he continued. +"Very dignified, very proud of her distinguished descent———" +</P> + +<P> +"And very fond of you," Kay interrupted. +</P> + +<P> +"Always was, Kay. She's an old peach. Came to the hospital and cried +over me and wanted to loan me enough money to lift the mortgage on my +ranch." +</P> + +<P> +"Then—then—your problem is—solved," Kay found difficulty in voicing +the sentence. +</P> + +<P> +He nodded. She turned her face away that he might not see the pallor +that overspread it. "It is a very great comfort to me," he resumed +presently, "to realize that the world is not altogether barren of love +and kindness." +</P> + +<P> +"It must be," she murmured, her face still averted. +</P> + +<P> +"It was the dearest wish of my poor father and of Anita's that the +ancient friendship between the families should be cemented by a +marriage between Anita and me. For me Señora Sepulvida would be a +marvelous mother-in-law, because she's my kind of people and we +understand each other. Really, I feel tremendously complimented +because, even before the oil strike saved the family from financial +ruin, Anita did not lack opportunities for many a more brilliant match." +</P> + +<P> +"She's—dazzling," Kay murmured drearily. "What a brilliant wife she +will be for you!" +</P> + +<P> +"Anita is far too fine a woman for such a sacrifice. I've always +entertained a very great affection for her and she for me. There's +only one small bug in our amber." +</P> + +<P> +"And that———" +</P> + +<P> +"We aren't the least bit in love with each other. We're children of a +later day and we object to the old-fashioned method of a marriage +arranged by papa and mama. I know there must be something radically +wrong with me; otherwise I never could resist Anita." +</P> + +<P> +"But you are going to marry her, are you not?" +</P> + +<P> +"I am not. She wouldn't marry me on a bet. And of course I didn't +accept her dear old mother's offer of financial aid. Couldn't, under +the circumstances, and besides, it would not be kind of me to transfer +my burden to them. I much prefer to paddle my own canoe." +</P> + +<P> +He noticed a rush of color to the face as she turned abruptly toward +him now. "What a heritage of pride you have, Miguel. But are you +quite certain Anita does not love you? You should have heard all the +nice things she said about you to-day." +</P> + +<P> +"She ought to say nice things about me," he replied casually. "When +she was quite a little girl she was given to understand that her +ultimate mission in life was to marry me. Of course I always realized +that it would not be a compliment to Anita to indicate that I was not +head over heels in love with her; I merely pretended I was too bashful +to mention it. Finally one day Anita suggested, as a favor to her and +for the sake of my own self-respect, that I abandon the pose; with +tears in her eyes she begged me to be a gallant rebel and save her from +the loving solicitude of her parents to see her settled in life. At +that moment I almost loved her, particularly when, having assured her +of my entire willingness and ability to spoil everything, she kissed me +rapturously on both cheeks and confided to me that she was secretly +engaged to an engineer chap who was gophering for potash in Death +Valley. The war interrupted his gophering, but Anita informs me that +he found the potash, and now he can be a sport and bet his potash +against Señora Sepulvida's crude oil. Fortunately, my alleged death +gave Anita an opportunity to advance his claims, and he was in a fair +way of becoming acceptable until my unexpected return rather greased +the skids for him. Anita's mother is trying to give the poor devil the +double-cross now, but I told Anita she needn't worry." +</P> + +<P> +Kay's eyes danced with merriment—and relief. "But," she persisted, +"you told me your problem was settled? And it isn't." +</P> + +<P> +"It is. I'm going to sell about eighteen thousand dollars worth of +cattle off this ranch, and I've leased the valley grazing privilege for +one year for ten thousand dollars. My raid on Loustalot netted me +sixty-seven thousand dollars, so that my total bankroll is now about +ninety-five thousand dollars. At first I thought I'd let Bill Conway +have most of my fortune to help him complete that dam, but I have now +decided to stop work on the dam and use all of my energy and my fortune +to put through such other deals as may occur to me. If I am lucky I +shall emerge with sufficient funds to save the ranch. If I am unlucky, +I shall lose the ranch. Therefore, the issue is decided. 'God's in +his Heaven; all's right with the world.' What have you been doing all +day?" +</P> + +<P> +"Painting and sketching. I'll never be a worth-while artist, but I +like to paint things for myself. I've been trying to depict on canvas +the San Gregorio in her new spring gown, as you phrase it. The arrival +of the Sepulvida family interrupted me, and I've been sitting here +since they departed. We had tea." +</P> + +<P> +"Getting a trifle bored with the country, Kay? I fancy you find it +lonely out here." +</P> + +<P> +"It was a trifle quiet while you were in hospital. Now that you're +back I suppose we can ride occasionally and visit some of the places of +local interest." +</P> + +<P> +"By all means. As soon as I get rid of that little bunch of cattle I'm +going to give a barbecue and festival to the countryside in honor of my +guests. We'll eat a half dozen fat two-year-old steers and about a +thousand loaves of bread and a couple of barrels of claret and a huge +mess of chilli sauce. When I announce in the El Toro <I>Sentinel</I> that +I'm going to give a <I>fiesta</I> and that everybody is welcome, all my +friends and their friends and relatives will come and I'll be spared +the trouble of visiting them individually. Don Nicolás Sandoval +remarked when he collected that Loustalot judgment for me that he +supposed I'd do the decent thing, now that I could afford it. Mother +Sepulvida suggested it and Anita seconded the motion. It will probably +be the last event of its kind on such a scale ever given in California, +and when it is finished it will have marked my transition from an +indolent <I>ranchero</I> to some sort of commercial go-getter." +</P> + +<P> +"I see. Little Mike, the Hustler." +</P> + +<P> +He nodded, rose and stood before her, smiling down at her with an +inscrutable little smile. "Will you motor me in to El Toro to-morrow +morning?" he pleaded. "I must go there to arrange for cattle cars." +</P> + +<P> +"Of course." +</P> + +<P> +"Thank you, Kay. Now, if I have your permission to withdraw, I think I +shall make myself presentable for dinner." +</P> + +<P> +He hesitated a moment before withdrawing, however, meanwhile gazing +down on her with a gaze so intent that the girl flushed a little. +Suddenly his hand darted out and he had her adorable little chin +clasped between his brown thumb and forefinger, shaking it with little +shakes of mock ferocity. He seemed about to deliver some important +announcement—impassioned, even, but to her huge disgust he smothered +the impulse, jerked his hand away as if he had scorched his fingers, +and blushed guiltily. "Oh, I'm a sky-blue idiot," he half growled and +left her abruptly. +</P> + +<P> +A snort—to a hunter it would have been vaguely reminiscent of that of +an old buck deer suddenly disturbed in a thicket—caused her to look +up. At the corner of the wall Pablo Artelan stood, staring at her with +alert interest; his posture was one of a man suddenly galvanized into +immobility. Kay blushed, but instantly decided to appear nonchalant. +</P> + +<P> +"Good evening, Pablo," she greeted the majordomo. "How do you feel +after your long, hard day on the range?" +</P> + +<P> +"<I>Gracias</I>, mees. Myself, I feel pretty good. When my boss hees +happy—well—Pablo Artelan hees happy just the same." +</P> + +<P> +The girl noted his emphasis. "That's very nice of you, Pablo, I'm +sure. Have you any idea," she continued with bland innocence, "why Don +Miguel is so happy this evening?" +</P> + +<P> +Pablo leaned against the adobe wall, thoughtfully drew forth tobacco +bag and brown cigarette paper and, while shaking his head and appearing +to ponder Kay's question, rolled a cigarette and lighted it. "We-l-l, +<I>señorita</I>," he began presently, "I theenk first mebbeso eet ees +because Don Miguel find heem one leetle piece paper on the trail. I am +see him peeck those paper up and look at heem for long time before he +ride to me and ask me many question about the <I>señorita</I> and Señor Beel +Conway those day we ride to Agua Caliente. He say to me: 'Pablo, you +see Señor Beel Conway give to the señorita a writing?' '<I>Si, señor</I>.' +'You see Señorita Parker give to Señor Beel Conway a writing?' '<I>Si, +señor</I>.' Then Don Miguel hee's don' say sometheeng more, but just +shake hees <I>cabeza</I> like thees," and Pablo gave an imitation of a +muchly puzzled man wagging his head to stimulate a flow of ideas. +</P> + +<P> +A faintness seized the girl. "Didn't he say—<I>anything</I>?" she demanded +sharply. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, well, yes, he say sometheeng. He say: 'Well, I'bedam!' Then that +leetle smile he don' have for long time come back to Don Miguel's face +and hee's happy like one baby. I don' understand those boy ontil I see +thees business"—Pablo wiggled his tobacco-stained thumb and +forefinger—"then I know sometheeng! For long time those boy hee's +pretty parteecular. Even those so beautiful <I>señorita</I>, 'Nita +Sepulvida, she don' rope those boy like you rope it, <I>señorita</I>." And +with the license of an old and trusted servant, the sage of Palomar +favored her with a knowing wink. +</P> + +<P> +"He knows—he knows!" the girl thought. "What must he think of me! +Oh, dear, oh, dear! if he mentions the subject to me I shall die." +Tears of mortification were in her eyes as she turned angrily upon the +amazed Pablo. "You—you—old sky-blue idiot!" she charged and fled to +her room. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap28"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XXVIII +</H3> + + +<P> +Kay's first coherent thought was to claim the privilege of her sex—a +headache—and refrain from joining Don Mike and her parents at dinner. +Upon consideration, however, she decided that since she would have to +face the issue sooner or later, she might as well be brave and not try +to evade it. For she knew now the fate of the promissory note Bill +Conway had given her and which she had thrust into the pocket of her +riding coat. It had worked out of her pocket and dropped beside the +trail to Agua Caliente Basin, and fate had ordained that it should be +found by the one person in the world not entitled to that privilege. +Kay would have given fifty thousand dollars for some miraculous philter +which, administered surreptitiously to Miguel Farrel, would cause him +to forget what the girl now realized he knew of her secret negotiations +with Bill Conway for the salvation of the ranch. Nevertheless, despite +her overwhelming embarrassment and distress, the question occurred to +her again and again: What would Don Miguel Farrel do about it? She +hadn't the slightest doubt but that his tremendous pride would lead him +to reject her aid and comfort, but how was he to accomplish this +delicate procedure? The situation was fraught with as much awkwardness +and embarrassment for him as for her. +</P> + +<P> +She was late in joining the others at table. To her great relief, +after rising politely at her entrance and favoring her with an +impersonal smile, Farrel sat down and continued to discuss with John +Parker and his wife the great natural resources of Siberia and the +designs of the Japanese empire upon that territory. About the time the +black coffee made its appearance, Kay's harassed soul had found +sanctuary in the discussion of a topic which she knew would be of +interest—one in which she felt she could join exuberantly. +</P> + +<P> +"Do tell father and mother of your plans for a <I>fiesta</I>, Miguel," she +pleaded presently. +</P> + +<P> +"A <I>fiesta</I>, eh?" Mrs. Parker was instantly interested. "Miguel, that +is, indeed, a bright thought. I volunteer as a patroness here and now. +John, you can be a judge of the course, or something. Miguel, what is +the occasion of your <I>fiesta</I>?" +</P> + +<P> +"At a period in the world's history, Mrs. Parker, when butter is a +dollar a pound and blue-denim over-alls sell freely for three dollars a +pair, I think we ought to do something to dissipate the general gloom. +I want to celebrate my return to civil life, and my more recent return +from the grave. Also, I would just as lief indicate to the county at +large that, outside of business hours, we constitute a very happy +little family here; so if you all please, I shall announce a <I>fiesta</I> +in honor of the Parker family." +</P> + +<P> +"It will last all day and night and we are to have a Wild West show," +Kay added eagerly. +</P> + +<P> +"Where will it be held, Miguel?" +</P> + +<P> +"Down at our old abandoned race-track, about a mile from here." +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. Parker nodded approval. "John, you old dud," she decided, "you +always liked horse-races and athletics. You're stuck for some prizes." +</P> + +<P> +Her indulgent husband good-naturedly agreed, and at Kay's suggestion, +Carolina brought a pencil and a large writing-tablet, whereupon the +girl constituted herself secretary of the carnival committee and wrote +the program, as arranged by Don Mike and her father. She thrilled when +Farrel announced a race of six furlongs for ladies' saddle-horses, to +be ridden by their owners. +</P> + +<P> +"You ought to win that with Panchito," he suggested to Kay. +</P> + +<P> +Kay's heart beat happily. In Farrel's suggestion that she ride +Panchito in this race she decided that here was evidence that her host +did not contemplate any action that would tend to render the ranch +untenable for her prior to the <I>fiesta</I>; indeed, there was nothing in +his speech or bearing that indicated the slightest mental perturbation +now that he had discovered the compact existing between her and Bill +Conway. Perhaps his pride was not so high as she had rated it; what if +her action had been secretly pleasing to him? +</P> + +<P> +Somehow, Kay found this latter thought disturbing and distasteful. It +was long past midnight before she could dismiss the enigma from her +thoughts and fall asleep. +</P> + +<P> +It was later than that, however, before Don Miguel José Federico +Noriaga Farrel dismissed her from his thoughts and succumbed to the +arms of Morpheus. For quite a while after retiring to his room he sat +on the edge of the bed, rubbing his toes with one hand and holding Bill +Conway's promissory note before him with the other. +</P> + +<P> +"That girl and her mother are my secret allies," he soliloquized. +"Bless their dear kind hearts. Kay has confided in Conway and for +reasons best known to himself he has secretly accepted of her aid. Now +I wonder," he continued, "what the devil actuates her to double-cross +her own father in favor of a stranger?" +</P> + +<P> +He tucked the note back in his pocket, removed a sock and rubbed the +other foot thoughtfully. "Well, whatever happens," he decided +eventually, "I've got to keep my secret to myself, while at the same +time effectually preventing this young lady from advancing Bill Conway +any further funds for my relief. I cannot afford her pity or her +charity; I can accept her sympathy, but not her aid. Conway cannot +have so soon spent much of the money he borrowed from her, and if I +insist on the cessation of operations in the Basin he'll promptly give +her back her fifty thousand dollars in order to save the interest +charges; in the meantime I shall mail Kay the note in a plain white +envelope, with the address typewritten, so she will never know where it +came from, for of course she'll have to hand Bill back his canceled +note when he pays it." +</P> + +<P> +He blew out the light and retired, not to sleep, but to revolve plan +after plan for the salvation of the ranch. To float a new loan from +any source in San Marcos County he dismissed for the hundredth time as +a proposition too nebulous for consideration. His only hope of a bank +loan lay in an attempt to interest outside bankers to a point where +they would consent to have the property appraised. Perhaps the letter +from Parker which he held would constitute evidence to cautious +capitalists of the sufficiency of the security for the loan. It was +for that purpose that he had cunningly inveigled Parker into making him +that offer to clear out and leave him a fair field and no litigation. +However, Don Mike knew that between bankers there exists a certain +mutual dependence, a certain cohesiveness that makes for mutual +protection. If, for instance (he told himself), he should apply to a +San Francisco bank for a loan on the ranch, the bank, prior to wasting +either time or mental energy on his application, would first ascertain +from sources other than him, whether it was remotely worth while +considering the loan up to a point of sending a representative down to +appraise the land. Their first move, therefore, would be to write +their correspondent in El Toro—John Parker's bank, the First +National—for information regarding the Farrel family, the ranch and +the history of the mortgage. Don Mike was not such an optimist as to +believe that the report of Parker's bank would be such as to encourage +the outside bank to proceed further in the deal. +</P> + +<P> +He was also aware that the loan would not be attractive to commercial +banks, who are forced, in self-protection, to loan their money on +liquid assets. He must therefore turn to the savings-banks and trust +companies. But here again he faced an impasse. Such institutions loan +money for the purpose of securing interest on it; the last thing they +wish to do is to be forced, in the protection of the loan, to foreclose +a mortgage. Hence, should they entertain the slightest doubt of his +inability to repay the mortgage; should they be forced to consider the +probability of foreclosure eventually, he knew they would not consider +the loan. Don Mike was bitterly aware of the fact that the history of +his family bad been one of waste, extravagance, carelessness and +inefficiency. In order to place the ranch on a paying basis and take +up John Parker's mortgage, therefore, he would have to have a new loan +of not less than half a million dollars, and at six per cent., the +lowest rate of interest he could hope to obtain, his annual interest +charge would be thirty thousand dollars. Naturally he would be +expected to repay the loan gradually—say at the rate of fifty thousand +dollars a year. By running ten thousand head of cattle on the Palomar +he knew he could meet his payments of interest and principal without +lessening his working capital, but he could not do it by attempting to +raise scrub beef cattle. He would gradually produce a herd of +pure-bred Herefords, but in the meantime he would have to buy +"feeders," grow them out on the Palomar range and sell them at a +profit. During the present high price of beef cattle, he dared not +gamble on borrowed capital, else with a slump in prices he might be +destroyed. It would be a year or two, at least, before he might accept +that risk; indeed, the knowledge of this condition had induced him to +lease the San Gregorio for one year to the Basque sheep man, André +Loustalot. If, in the interim, he should succeed in saving the ranch, +he knew that a rest of one year would enable the range to recover from +the damage inflicted upon it by the sheep. +</P> + +<P> +In his desolation there came to him presently a wave of the strong +religious faith that was his sole unencumbered heritage. Once again he +was a trustful little boy. He slid out of the great bed of his +ancestors and knelt on the old rag mat beside it; he poured out an +appeal for help from One who, he had been told—who, he truly +believed—marked the sparrow's fall. Don Mike was far from being the +orthodox person one ordinarily visualizes in a Spanish-Irish Catholic, +but he was deeply religious, his religious impulse taking quite +naturally a much more practical form and one most pleasing to himself +and his neighbors, in that it impelled him to be brave and kind and +hopeful, a gentleman in all that the word implies. He valued far more +than he did the promise of a mansion in the skies a certain +tranquillity of spirit which comes of conscious virtue. +</P> + +<P> +When he rose from his knees he had a feeling that God had not lost +track of him and that, despite a long list of debit entries, a +celestial accountant had, at some period in Don Mike's life, posted a +considerable sum to his credit in the Book of Things. "That credit may +just balance the account," he reflected, "although it is quite probable +I am still working in the red ink. Well—I've asked Him for the +privilege of overdrawing my account… we shall see what we shall +see." +</P> + +<P> +At daylight he awakened suddenly and found himself quite mysteriously +the possessor of a trend of reasoning that automatically forced him to +sit up in bed. +</P> + +<P> +Fifteen minutes later, mounted on Panchito, he was cantering up the San +Gregorio, and just as the cook at Bill Conway's camp at Agua Caliente +Basin came to the door of the mess hall and yelled: "Come an' git it or +I'll throw it out," Panchito slid down the gravel cut-bank into camp. +</P> + +<P> +"Where is Mr. Conway?" he demanded of the cook, +</P> + +<P> +The latter jerked a greasy thumb toward the interior of the mess hall, +so, leaving Panchito "tied to the breeze," Don Mike dismounted and +entered. +</P> + +<P> +"Hello there, young feller," Bill Conway roared at him. +</P> + +<P> +"Top o' the morning to you, old dirt-digger," Farrel replied. "Please +deal me a hand of your ham and eggs, sunny side up. How be ye, Willum?" +</P> + +<P> +"R'arin' to go," Conway assured him. +</P> + +<P> +"All right. Pack up and go to-day. You're through on this job." +</P> + +<P> +"Why?" +</P> + +<P> +"I've changed my mind about fighting Parker on this dam deal—and no +profanity intended." +</P> + +<P> +"But—but———" +</P> + +<P> +"But me no buts, even if you are the goat. You're through. I forbid +the bans. The eggs, man! I'm famished. The midnight ride of Paul +Revere was a mere exercise gallop, because he started shortly after +supper, but the morning ride of Mike Farrel has been done on fresh air." +</P> + +<P> +"You're a lunatic. If you knew what I know, Miguel———" +</P> + +<P> +"Hush! I want to ascertain what you know. Bet you a dollar!" He +slammed a dollar down on the table and held his palm over it. +</P> + +<P> +Bill Conway produced a dollar and likewise covered it. "Very well, +son," he replied. "I'll see your dollar. What's the nature of the +bet?" +</P> + +<P> +"I'm betting a dollar you didn't draw the plans for this dam." +</P> + +<P> +Bill Conway flipped his dollar over to his guest. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm betting two dollars!" +</P> + +<P> +Conway took two silver dollars from his vest pocket and laid them on +the table. "And the bet?" he queried. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm betting two dollars the plans were drawn by an engineer in Los +Angeles." +</P> + +<P> +"Some days I can't lay up a cent," the old contractor complained, and +parted with his two dollars. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm betting four dollars!" Farrel challenged. +</P> + +<P> +"See your four dollars," Conway retorted and covered the bet. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm betting that those plans were drawn by the engineer of the South +Coast Power Corporation." +</P> + +<P> +"Death loves a shining mark, Michael, my boy. Hand over that four +dollars." +</P> + +<P> +Farrel produced a five dollar bill. "I'm betting five dollars," he +challenged again. +</P> + +<P> +"Not with me, son. You're too good. I suppose your next bet will be +that the plans were drawn by the engineer of the Central California +Power Company." +</P> + +<P> +"Were they?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes." +</P> + +<P> +"Got a set of the plans with his name on them?" +</P> + +<P> +"You bet." +</P> + +<P> +"I want them." +</P> + +<P> +"They're yours, provided you tell your Uncle Bill the Big Idea." +</P> + +<P> +Don Mike flipped some pepper and salt on his eggs and while doing so +proceeded to elucidate. +</P> + +<P> +"If I had two projects in mind—one for irrigation and one for power, I +would not, of course, unless I happened to be a public service +corporation engaged in producing and selling electric power, consider +for a moment wasting my time monkeying with the hydro-electric +buzz-saw. Indeed, I would have to sell it, for with the juice +developed here I could not hope to compete in a limited field with the +established power companies. I would proceed to negotiate the sale of +this by-product to the highest bidder. Bill, do you know that I've +seen enough flood water running down the San Gregorio every winter to +have furnished, if it could have been stored in Agua Caliente Basin, +sufficient water to irrigate the San Gregorio Valley for five years?" +</P> + +<P> +"I know it, Miguel." +</P> + +<P> +"All a power company requires is the assurance that the dam you are +building will impound in the Agua Caliente Basin during an ordinarily +wet winter, sufficient run-off water to insure them against a shortage +during the summer. After the water has passed over their wheels +they're through with it and it can be used for irrigation, can it not?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, of course, although you'd have to have a greater volume of water +than the amount coming through the power company's pen-stocks. But +that's easily arranged. Two ditches, Miguel!" +</P> + +<P> +"If the engineer of the Central California Power Company had not +examined the possibilities here and approved of them, it is reasonable +to suppose that he would not have drawn the plans and Parker would not +have engaged you to build the dam." +</P> + +<P> +"You're on the target, son. Go on." +</P> + +<P> +"Then Parker must have entered into an agreement to sell, and the +Central California Power Company must have agreed to buy, if and when +Parker could secure legal title to the Rancho Palomar, a certain number +of miner's inches of water daily, in perpetuity, together with certain +lands for a power station and a perpetual right of way for their power +lines over the lands of this ranch." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, son, that's what I would have done in a similar situation. +Nothing to be made by letting that hydro-electric opportunity lie +fallow. No profit in wasting kilowatts, Miguel. We haven't got a +third of the power necessary for the proper development/of this state." +</P> + +<P> +"In the absence of conclusive proof to the contrary, Bill, I am +convinced that John Parker did enter into such a contract. Naturally, +until he should secure the title to the ranch, the railroad commission, +which regulates all public service corporations in this state, would +not grant the power company permission to gamble on the truth of an +official report that I had been killed in Siberia." +</P> + +<P> +"Your reasoning is sound. Now eat, and after breakfast I'll tell you +things. Your visit and your eager inquiries have started a train of +thought in my thick head." +</P> + +<P> +Don Mike obeyed, and while he devoted himself to his breakfast, old +Bill Conway amused himself rolling pellets out of bread and flipping +them at a knot-hole in the rough wall of the mess hall. +</P> + +<P> +"You've been pretty well troubled, haven't you, son?" he remarked +paternally when Don Mike, having completed his meal, sat back and +commenced rolling a cigarette. +</P> + +<P> +"<I>Si</I>. Got your train of thought ditched, Bill?" +</P> + +<P> +"I have. Assuming that Parker has made a deal with the Central +California Power Company, what I want to know is: Why did he do it?" +</P> + +<P> +"I've just told you why he did it." +</P> + +<P> +"You've just told me why he would make a deal with a power company, but +you haven't explained why he should make a deal with this <I>particular</I> +power company." +</P> + +<P> +"I cannot answer that question, Bill." +</P> + +<P> +"Nor can I. But there's a reason—perhaps two reasons. Territorially, +this power site is the natural property of but two power +corporations—the Central California and the South Coast. The South +Coast is the second largest corporation of its kind in the state; the +Central California is the fifth. Why go gunning for a dickey bird when +you can tie up to an eagle?" +</P> + +<P> +They were both silent, pondering the question. Then said Bill Conway, +"Well, son, if I had as much curiosity regarding the reason for this +situation as you have, I'd most certainly spend some money to find out." +</P> + +<P> +"I have the money and I am prepared to spend it. How would you start, +Bill?" +</P> + +<P> +"Well, I'd buy a couple of shares of stock, in the Central California +Power Company as a starter. Then I would descend upon the main office +of the company, exhibit my stock and claim my stockholder's right to +look over the list of stockholders and bondholders of record; also, the +board of directors and the minutes of the previous meetings. You may +not find John Parker's name listed either as stockholder, bondholder or +director, but you might find the First National Bank of El Toro, +represented by the cashier or the first vice-president of that +institution. Also, if I were you, I'd just naturally hop the rattler +for San Francisco, hie myself to some stockbroker's office to buy this +stock, and while buying it look over the daily reports of the stock +market for the past few years and see if the figures suggested anything +to me." +</P> + +<P> +"Anything else?" +</P> + +<P> +"Thus endeth the first lesson, Miguel. At that it's only a vague +suspicion. Get out of my way, boy. I'm going out to build a dam and +you're not ready to stop me—yet." +</P> + +<P> +"Bill, I'm serious about this. I want you to cease operations." +</P> + +<P> +Bill Conway turned upon him almost angrily. "What for?" he demanded. +</P> + +<P> +"I own the Rancho Palomar. I forbid it. I have a good and sufficient +reason." +</P> + +<P> +"But, son, I can finance the confounded dam. I have it financed +already." +</P> + +<P> +"So have I—if I cared to accept favors." +</P> + +<P> +Bill Conway approached and took his young friend by each shoulder. +"Son," he pleaded, "please let me build this dam. I was never so plumb +interested in any job before. I'll take a chance. I know what I'm +going to do and how I'm going to do it, and you aren't going to be +obligated the least little bit. Isn't John Parker stuck for it all, in +the long run? Why, I've got that <I>hombre</I> by the short hair." +</P> + +<P> +"I know, but long before you can collect from him you'll be financially +embarrassed." +</P> + +<P> +"Don't worry. I've been a miser all my life and I've got a lot of +money hid out. Please, son, quit interfering with me. You asked me to +help you out, I accepted and I'm going to go through until stopped by +legal procedure. And if you have the law on me I'll never speak to you +again." +</P> + +<P> +"Your attitude doesn't fit in with my plans, Bill Conway." +</P> + +<P> +"Yours don't fit in with mine. Besides, I'm older than you and if +there was one thing your father taught you it was respect for your +elders. Two heads are better than one. You crack right along and try +to save your ranch in your way and I'll crack right along and try to +save it my way. You pay your way and I'll pay mine. That's fair, +isn't it?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, but———" +</P> + +<P> +"Fiddlesticks; on your way. You're wasting your breath arguing with +me." +</P> + +<P> +Don Mike knew it. "Well, let me have a set of the plans," he concluded +sulkily. +</P> + +<P> +Bill Conway handed him out a roll of blue-prints and Farrel mounted +Panchito and returned to the hacienda. The blue-prints he hid in the +barn before presenting himself at the house. He knew his absence from +the breakfast-table would not be commented upon, because for a week, +during the round-up of the cattle, he and Pablo and the latter's male +relatives who helped in the riding, had left the hacienda at daylight +after partaking of a four o'clock breakfast. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap29"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XXIX +</H3> + + +<P> +"We've been waiting for you, Miguel, to motor with us to El Toro," Kay +greeted him as he entered the patio. +</P> + +<P> +"So sorry to have delayed you, Kay. I'm ready to start now, if you +are." +</P> + +<P> +"Father and mother are coming also. Where have you been? I asked +Pablo, but he didn't know." +</P> + +<P> +"I've been over to Bill Conway's camp to tell him to quit work on that +dam." +</P> + +<P> +The girl paled slightly and a look of apprehension crept into her eyes. +"And—and—he's—ceasing operations?" she almost quavered. +</P> + +<P> +"He is not. He defied me, confound him, and in the end I had to let +him have his way." +</P> + +<P> +El Mono, the butler, interrupted them by appearing on the porch to +announce that William waited in the car without. Mrs. Parker presently +appeared, followed by her husband, and the four entered the waiting +car. Don Mike, satisfied that his old riding breeches and coat were +clean and presentable, had not bothered to change his clothes, an +evidence of the democracy of his <I>ranchero</I> caste, which was not lost +upon his guests. +</P> + +<P> +"I know another route to El Toro," he confided to the Parkers as the +car sped down the valley. "It's about twelve miles out of our way, but +it is an inspiring drive. The road runs along the side of the high +hills, with a parallel range of mountains to the east and the low +foothills and flat farming lands sloping gradually west to the Pacific +Ocean. At one point we can look down into La Questa Valley and it's +beautiful." +</P> + +<P> +"Let us try that route, by all means," John Parker suggested. "I have +been curious to see La Questa Valley and observe the agricultural +methods of the Japanese farmers there." +</P> + +<P> +"I am desirous of seeing it again for the same reason, sir," Farrel +replied. "Five years ago there wasn't a Jap in that valley and now I +understand it is a little Japan." +</P> + +<P> +"I understand," Kay struck in demurely, "that La Questa Valley suffered +a slight loss in population a few weeks ago." +</P> + +<P> +Both Farrel and her father favored her with brief, sharp, suspicious +glances. "Who was telling you?" the latter demanded. +</P> + +<P> +"Señor Bill Conway." +</P> + +<P> +"He ought to know better than to discuss the Japanese problem with +you," Farrel complained, and her father nodded vigorous assent. Kay +tilted her adorable nose at them. +</P> + +<P> +"How delightful to have one's intelligence underrated by mere men," she +retorted. +</P> + +<P> +"Did Bill Conway indicate the direction of the tide of emigration from +La Questa?" Farrel asked craftily, still unwilling to admit anything. +The girl smiled at him, then leaning closer she crooned for his ear +alone: +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> + He's sleeping in the valley,<BR> + The valley,<BR> + The valley,<BR> + He's sleeping in the valley,<BR> + And the mocking bird is singing where he lies. +</P> + +<P> +"Are you glad?" he blurted eagerly. She nodded and thrilled as she +noted the smug little smile of approval and complete understanding that +crept over his dark face like the shadow of clouds in the San Gregorio. +Mrs. Parker was riding in the front seat with the chauffeur and Kay sat +between her father and Don Mike in the tonneau. His hand dropped +carelessly on her lap now, as he made a pretense of pulling the auto +robe up around her; with quick stealth he caught her little finger and +pressed it hurriedly, then dropped it as if the contact had burned him; +whereat the girl realized that he was a man of few words, but——— +</P> + +<P> +"Dear old idiot," she thought. "If he ever falls in love he'll pay his +court like a schoolboy." +</P> + +<P> +"By the way, sir," Farrel spoke suddenly, turning to John Parker, "I +would like very much to have your advice in the matter of an +investment. I will have about ninety thousand dollars on hand as soon +as I sell these cattle I've rounded up, and until I can add to this sum +sufficient to lift the mortgage you hold, it scarcely seems prudent to +permit my funds to repose in the First National Bank of El Toro without +drawing interest." +</P> + +<P> +"We'll give you two and one-half per cent. on the account, Farrel." +</P> + +<P> +"Not enough. I want it to earn six or seven per cent. and it occurred +to me that I might invest it in some good securities which I could +dispose of at a moment's notice, whenever I needed the money. The +possibility of a profit on the deal has even occurred to me." +</P> + +<P> +Parker smiled humorously. "And you come to me for advice? Why, boy, +I'm your financial enemy." +</P> + +<P> +"My dear Mr. Parker, I am unalterably opposed to you on the Japanese +colonization scheme and I shall do my best to rob you of the profit you +plan to make at my expense, but personally I find you a singularly +agreeable man. I know you will never resign a business advantage, but, +on the other hand, I think that if I ask you for advice as to a +profitable investment for my pitiful little fortune, you will not be +base enough to advise me to my financial detriment. I trust you. Am I +not banking with your bank?" +</P> + +<P> +"Thank you, Farrel, for that vote of confidence. You possess a truly +sporting attitude in business affairs and I like you for it; I like any +man who can take his beating and smile. Yes, I am willing to advise an +investment. I know of a dozen splendid securities that I can +conscientiously recommend as a safe investment, although, in the event +of the inevitable settlement that must follow the war and our national +orgy of extravagance and high prices, I advise you frankly to wait +awhile before taking on any securities. You cannot afford to absorb +the inevitable shrinkage in the values of all commodities when the +show-down comes. However, there is a new issue of South Coast Power +Company first mortgage bonds that can be bought now to yield eight per +cent. and I should be very much inclined to take a chance on them, +Farrel. The debentures of the power corporations in this state are +about the best I know of." +</P> + +<P> +"I think you are quite right, sir," Farrel agreed. "Eventually the +South Coast Company is bound to divide with the Pacific Company control +of the power business of the state. I dare say that in the fullness of +time the South Coast people will arrange a merger with the Central +California Power Company." +</P> + +<P> +"Perhaps. The Central California Company is under-financed and not +particularly well managed, Farrel. I think it is, potentially, an +excellent property, but its bonds have been rather depressed for a long +time." +</P> + +<P> +Farrel nodded his understanding. "Thank you for your advice, sir. +When I am ready will your bank be good enough to arrange the purchase +of the South Coast bonds for me?" +</P> + +<P> +"Certainly. Happy to oblige you, Farrel. But do not be in too great a +hurry. You may lose more in the shrinkages of values if you buy now +than you would make in interest." +</P> + +<P> +"I shall be guided by your advice, sir. You are very kind." +</P> + +<P> +"By the way," Parker continued, with a deprecatory smile, "I haven't +entered suit against you in the matter of that foreclosure. I didn't +desire to annoy you while you were in hospital and you've been busy on +the range ever since. When can I induce you to submit to a +process-server?" +</P> + +<P> +"This afternoon will suit me, Mr. Parker." +</P> + +<P> +"I'll gladly wait awhile longer, if you can give me any tangible +assurance of your ability to meet the mortgage." +</P> + +<P> +"I cannot do that to-day, sir, although I may be able to do so if you +will defer action for three days." +</P> + +<P> +Parker nodded and the conversation languished. The car had climbed out +of the San Gregorio and was mounting swiftly along the route to La +Questa, affording to the Parkers a panorama of mountain, hill, valley +and sea so startling in its vastness and its rugged beauty that Don +Mike realized his guests had been silenced as much by awe as by their +desire to avoid a painful and unprofitable conversation. +</P> + +<P> +Suddenly they swung wide around a turn and saw, two thousand feet below +them, La Questa Valley. The chauffeur parked the car on the outside of +the turn to give his passengers a long, unobstructed view. +</P> + +<P> +"Looks like a green checker-board with tiny squares," Parker remarked +presently. +</P> + +<P> +"Little Japanese farms." +</P> + +<P> +"There must be a thousand of them, Farrel." +</P> + +<P> +"That means not less than five thousand Japanese, Mr. Parker. It means +that literally a slice of Japan has been transplanted in La Questa +Valley, perhaps the fairest and most fruitful valley in the fairest and +most fruitful state in the fairest and most fruitful country God ever +made. And it is lost to white men!" +</P> + +<P> +"Serves them right. Why didn't they retain their lands?" +</P> + +<P> +"Why doesn't water run up hill? A few Japs came in and leased or +bought lands long before we Californians suspected a 'yellow peril.' +They paid good prices to inefficient white farmers who were glad to get +out at a price in excess of what any white man could afford to pay. +After we passed our land law in 1913, white men continued to buy the +lands for a corporation owned by Japanese with white dummy directors, +or a majority of the stock of the corporation ostensibly owned by white +men. Thousands of patriotic Californians have sold their farms to +Japanese without knowing it. The law provides that a Japanese cannot +lease land longer than three years, so when their leases expire they +conform to our foolish law by merely shifting the tenants from one farm +to another. Eventually so many Japs settled in the valley that that +white farmers, unable to secure white labor, unable to trust Japanese +labor, unable to endure Japanese neighbors or to enter into Japanese +social life weary of paying taxes to support schools for the education +of Japanese children, weary of daily contact with irritable, unreliable +and unassimilable aliens, sold or leased their farms in order to escape +into a white neighborhood. I presume, Mr. Parker, that nobody can +realize the impossibility of withstanding this yellow flood except +those who have been overwhelmed by it. We humanitarians of a later day +gaze with gentle sympathy upon the spectacle of a noble and primeval +race like the Iroquois tribe of Indians dying before the advance of our +Anglo-Saxon civilization, but with characteristic Anglo-Saxon +inconsistency and stupidity we are quite loth to feel sorry for +ourselves, doomed to death before the advance of a Mongolian +civilization unless we put a stop to it—forcibly and immediately!" +</P> + +<P> +"Let us go down and see for ourselves," Mrs. Parker suggested. +</P> + +<P> +Having reached the floor of the valley, at Farrel's suggestion they +drove up one side of it and down the other. Motor-truck after +motor-truck, laden with crated vegetables, passed them on the road, +each truck driven by a Japanese, some of them wearing the peculiar +bamboo hats of the Japanese coolie class. +</P> + +<P> +The valley was given over to vegetable farming and the fields were +dotted with men, women and children, squatting on their heels between +the rows or bending over them in an attitude which they seemed able to +maintain indefinitely, but which would have broken the back of a white +man. +</P> + +<P> +"I know a white apologist for the Japanese who in a million pamphlets +and from a thousand rostrums has cried that it is false that Japanese +women labor in the fields," Farrel told his guests. "You have seen a +thousand of them laboring in this valley. Hundreds of them carry +babies on their backs or set them to sleep on a gunnysack between the +rows of vegetables. There is a sixteen-year-old girl struggling with a +one-horse cultivator, while her sisters and her mother hold up their +end with five male Japs in the gentle art of hoeing potatoes." +</P> + +<P> +"They live in wretched little houses," Kay ventured to remark. +</P> + +<P> +"Anything that will shelter a horse or a chicken is a palace to a Jap, +Kay. The furnishings of their houses are few and crude. They rise in +the morning, eat, labor, eat, and retire to sleep against another day +of toil. They are all growing rich in this valley, but have you seen +one of these aliens building a decent home, or laying out a flower +garden? Do you see anything inspiring or elevating to our nation due +to the influence of such a race?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yonder is a schoolhouse," Mrs. Parker suggested. "Let us visit it." +</P> + +<P> +"The American flag floats over that little red school-house, at any +rate," Parker defended. +</P> + +<P> +William halted the car in the schoolhouse yard and Farrel got out and +walked to the schoolhouse door. An American school-teacher, a girl of +perhaps twenty, came to the door and met him with an inquiring look. +"May we come in?" Farrel pleaded. "I have some Eastern people with me +and I wanted to show them the sort of Americans you are hired to teach." +</P> + +<P> +She smiled ruefully. "I am just about to let them out for recess," she +replied. "Your friends may remain in their car and draw their own +conclusions." +</P> + +<P> +"Thank you." Don Mike returned to the car. "They're coming out for +recess," he confided. "Future American citizens and citizenesses. +Count 'em." +</P> + +<P> +Thirty-two little Japanese boys and girls, three Mexican or Indian +children and four of undoubted white parentage trooped out into the +yard and gathered around the car, gazing curiously. The school-teacher +bade them run away and play and, in her role of hostess, approached the +car. "I am Miss Owens," she announced, "and I teach this school +because I have to earn a living. It is scarcely a task over which one +can enthuse, although I must admit that Japanese children are not +unintelligent and their parents dress them nicely and keep them clean." +</P> + +<P> +"I suppose, Miss Owens," Farrel prompted her, having introduced himself +and the Parkers, "that you have to contend with the native Japanese +schools." +</P> + +<P> +She pointed to a brown house half a mile away. Over it flew the flag +of Japan. "They learn ancestor worship and how to kow-tow to the +Emperor's picture down there, after they have attended school here," +she volunteered. "Poor little tots! Their heads must ache with the +amount of instruction they receive. After they have learned here that +Columbus discovered America on October 12th, 1492, they proceed to that +Japanese school and are taught that the Mikado is a divinity and a +direct descendant of the Sun God. And I suppose, also, they are taught +that it is a fine, clean, manly thing to pack little, green, or decayed +strawberries at the bottom of a crate with nice big ones on top—in +defiance of a state law. Our weights and measures law and a few others +are very onerous to our people in La Questa." +</P> + +<P> +"Do you mean to tell me, Miss Owens," Parker asked, "that you despair +of educating these little Japanese children to be useful American +citizens?" +</P> + +<P> +"I do. The Buddhist school over yonder is teaching them to be Japanese +citizens; under Japanese law all Japanese remain Japanese citizens at +heart, even if they do occasionally vote here. The discipline of my +school is very lax," she continued. "It would be, of course, in view +of the total lack of parental support. In that other school, however, +the discipline is excellent." +</P> + +<P> +She continued to discourse with them, giving them an intimate picture +of life in this little Japan and interesting revelations upon the point +of view, family life and business ethics of the parents of her pupils, +until it was time to "take up" school again, when she reluctantly +returned to her poorly paid and unappreciated efforts. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, of course, these people are impossible socially," John Parker +admitted magnanimously, "but they do know how to make things grow. +They are not afraid of hard work. Perhaps that is why they have +supplanted the white farmers." +</P> + +<P> +"Indeed they do know how, Mr. Parker. And they can produce good crops +more cheaply than a white farmer. A Japanese with a wife and two +fairly well-grown daughters saves the wages of three hired men. Thus +he is enabled to work his ground more thoroughly. When he leases land +he tries to acquire rich land, which he robs of its fertility in three +years and then passes on to renew the outrage elsewhere. Where he owns +land, however, he increases fertility by proper fertilization." +</P> + +<P> +"So you do not believe it possible for a white man to compete +economically with these people, Farrel?" +</P> + +<P> +"Would you, if you were a white farmer, care to compete with the +Japanese farmers of this valley? Would you care to live in a rough +board shack, subsist largely on rice, labor from daylight to dark and +force your wife and daughter to labor with you in the fields? Would +you care to live in a kennel and never read a book or take an interest +in public affairs or thrill at a sunset or consider that you really +ought to contribute a dollar toward starving childhood in Europe? +Would you?" +</P> + +<P> +"You paint a sorry picture, Farrel." Parker was evasive. +</P> + +<P> +"I paint what I see before me," he answered doggedly. "This—in five +years. And if this be progress as we view progress—if this be +desirable industrial or agricultural evolution, then I'm out of tune +with my world and my times, and as soon as I am certain of it I'll blow +my brains out." +</P> + +<P> +Parker chuckled at this outburst and Kay prodded him with her elbow—a +warning prod. The conversation languished immediately. Don Mike sat +staring out upon the little green farms and the little brown men and +women who toiled on them. +</P> + +<P> +"Angry, Don Mike?" the girl asked presently. He bent upon her a glance +of infinite sadness. +</P> + +<P> +"No, my dear girl, just feeling a little depressed. It's hard for a +man who loves his country so well that he would gladly die a thousand +dreadful deaths for it, to have to fight the disloyal thought that +perhaps, after all, it isn't really worth fighting for and dying for. +If we only had the courage and the foresight and the firmness of the +Australians and New Zealanders! Why, Kay, those sane people will not +even permit an Indian prince—a British subject, forsooth—to enter +their country except under bond and then for six months only. When the +six months have expired—<I>heraus mit em</I>! You couldn't find a Jap in +Australia, with a search warrant. But do you hear any Japanese threats +of war against Australia for this alleged insult to her national honor? +You do not. They save that bunkum for pussy-footing, peace-loving, +backward-looking, dollar-worshiping Americans. As a nation we do not +wish to be awakened from our complacency, and the old theory that a +prophet is without honor in his own country is a true one. So perhaps +it would be well if we discuss something else—luncheon, for instance. +Attention! Silence in the ranks! Here we are at the Hotel De Las +Rosas." +</P> + +<P> +Having dined his guests, Farrel excused himself, strolled over to the +railroad station and arranged with the agent for cattle cars to be +spotted in on the siding close to town three days later. From the +station he repaired to the office of his father's old attorney, where +he was closeted some fifteen minutes, after which he returned to his +guests, awaiting his return on the wide hotel veranda. +</P> + +<P> +"Have you completed your business?" Parker inquired. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, sir, I have. I have also completed some of yours. Coming away +from the office of my attorney, I noticed the office of your attorney +right across the hall, so I dropped in and accepted service of the +complaint in action for the foreclosure of your confounded old +mortgage. This time your suit is going to stick! Furthermore, as I +jogged down Main Street, I met Judge Morton, of the Superior Court, and +made him promise that if the suit should be filed this afternoon he +would take it up on his calendar to-morrow morning and render a +judgment in your favor." +</P> + +<P> +"By George," Parker declared, apparently puzzled, "one gathers the +impression that you relish parting with your patrimony when you +actually speed the date of departure." +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. Parker took Don Mike by the lapel of his coat. "You have a +secret," she charged. +</P> + +<P> +He shook his head. +</P> + +<P> +"You have," Kay challenged. "The intuition of two women cannot be +gainsaid." +</P> + +<P> +Farrel took each lady by the arm and with high, mincing steps, +simulating the utmost caution in his advance, he led them a little way +down the veranda out of hearing of the husband and father. +</P> + +<P> +"It isn't a secret," he whispered, "because a secret is something which +one has a strong desire to conceal. However, I do not in the least +mind telling you the cause of the O-be-joyful look that has aroused +your curiosity. Please lower your heads and incline your best ears +toward me… There! I rejoice because I have the shaggy old wolf +of Wall Street, more familiarly known as John Parker, beaten at his +favorite indoor sport of high and lofty finance. 'Tis sad, but true. +The old boy's a gone fawn. <I>Le roi est mort</I>! <I>vive le roi</I>!" +</P> + +<P> +Kay's eyes danced. "Really, Miguel?" +</P> + +<P> +"Not really or actually, Kay, but—er—morally certain." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh!" There was disappointment in her voice. Her mother was looking +at Don Mike sharply, shrewdly, but she said nothing, and Farrel had a +feeling that his big moment had fallen rather flat. +</P> + +<P> +"How soon will John be called upon to bow his head and take the blow?" +Mrs. Parker finally asked. "Much as I sympathize with you, Miguel, I +dislike the thought of John hanging in suspense, as it were." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, I haven't quite made up my mind," he replied. "I could do it +within three days, I think, but why rush the execution? Three months +hence will be ample time. You see," he confided, "I like you all so +well that I plan to delay action for six months or a year, unless, of +course, you are anxious for an excuse to leave the ranch sooner. If +you really want to go as soon as possible, of course I'll get busy and +cook Señor Parker's goose, but———" +</P> + +<P> +"You're incorrigible!" the lady declared. "Procrastinate, by all +means. It would be very lonely for you without us, I'm sure." +</P> + +<P> +"Indeed, it would be. That portion of me which is Irish would picture +my old hacienda alive at night with ghosts and banshees." +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. Parker was looking at him thoughtfully; seemingly she was not +listening. What she really was doing was saying to herself: "What +marvelous teeth he has and what an altogether debonair, captivating +young rascal he is, to be sure! I cannot understand why he doesn't +melt John's business heart. Can it be that under that gay, smiling, +lovable surface John sees something he doesn't quite like? I wonder." +</P> + +<P> +As they entered the waiting automobile and started for home, Farrel, +who occupied the front seat with the chauffeur, turned and faced the +Parkers. "From this day forward," he promised them, "we are all going +to devote ourselves to the serious task of enjoying life to the utmost. +For my part, I am not going to talk business or Japanese immigration +any more. Are you all grateful?" +</P> + +<P> +"We are," they cried in unison. +</P> + +<P> +He thanked them with his mirthful eyes, faced around in his seat and, +staring straight ahead, was soon lost in day dreams. John Parker and +his wife exchanged glances, then both looked at their daughter, seated +between them. She, too, was building castles in Spain! +</P> + +<P> +When they alighted from the car before the hacienda, Mrs. Parker +lingered until the patio gate had closed on her daughter and Farrel; +then she drew her husband down beside her on the bench under the +catalpa tree. +</P> + +<P> +"John, Miguel Farrel says he has you beaten." +</P> + +<P> +"I hope so, dear," he replied feelingly. "I know of but one way out +for that young man, and if he has discovered it so readily I'd be a +poor sport indeed not to enjoy his victory." +</P> + +<P> +"You never really meant to take his ranch away from him, did you, John?" +</P> + +<P> +"I did, Kate. I do. If I win, my victory will prove to my entire +satisfaction that Don Miguel José Federico Noriaga Farrel is a +throwback to the <I>Mañana</I> family, and in that event, my dear, we will +not want him in ours. We ought to improve our blood-lines, not +deteriorate them." +</P> + +<P> +"Yet you would have sold this valley to that creature Okada." +</P> + +<P> +"Farrel has convinced me of my error there. I have been anti-Jap since +the day Farrel was thrown from his horse and almost killed—by a Jap." +</P> + +<P> +"I'm sure Kay is in love with him, John." +</P> + +<P> +"Propinquity," he grunted. +</P> + +<P> +"Fiddlesticks! The man is perfectly charming." +</P> + +<P> +"Perhaps. We'll decide that point later. Do you think Farrel is +interested in Kay?" +</P> + +<P> +"I do not know, John," his better half declared hopelessly. "If he is, +he possesses the ability to conceal it admirably." +</P> + +<P> +"I'll bet he's a good poker-player. He has you guessing, old girl, and +the man who does that is a <I>rara avis</I>. However, Katie dear, if I were +you I wouldn't worry about this—er—affair." +</P> + +<P> +"John, I can't help it. Naturally, I'm curious to know the thoughts in +the back of that boy's head, but when he turns that smiling innocent +face toward me, all I can see is old-fashioned deference and amiability +and courtesy. I watch him when he's talking to Kay—when he cannot +possibly know I am snooping, and still, except for that frank +friendliness, his face is as communicative as this old adobe wall. A +few days ago he rode in from the range with a great cluster of wild +tiger-lilies—and he presented them to me. Any other young man would +have presented them to my daughter." +</P> + +<P> +"I give it up, Kate, and suggest that we turn this mystery over to +Father Time. He'll solve it." +</P> + +<P> +"But I don't want Kay to fall in love with Don Mike if he isn't going +to fall in love with her," she protested, in her earnestness raising +her voice, as was frequently her habit. +</P> + +<P> +The patio gate latch clicked and Pablo Artelan stood in the aperture. +</P> + +<P> +"<I>Señora</I>," he said gravely. "Ef I am you I don' worry very much about +those boy. Before hee's pretty parteecular. All those hightone' +<I>señorita</I> in El Toro she give eet the sweet look to Don Miguel, jus' +the same like thees———" Here Pablo relaxed his old body, permitted +his head to loll sideways and his lower jaw to hang slackly, the while +his bloodshot eyes gazed amorously into the branches of the catalpa +tree. "But those boy he don' pay some attention. Hee's give beeg +smile to thees <I>señorita</I>, beeg smile to thees one, beeg smile to that +one, beeg smile for all the mama, but for the <I>querida</I> I tell to you +Don Miguel hee's pretty parteecular. I theenk to myself—Carolina, +too—'Look here, Pablo. What he ees the matter weeth those boy? I +theenk mebbeso those boy she's goin' be old bach. What's the matter +here? When I am twenty-eight <I>años</I> my oldes' boy already hee's bust +one bronco'." Here Pablo paused to scratch his head. "But now," he +resumed, "by the blood of those devil I know sometheeng!" +</P> + +<P> +"What do you know, you squidgy-nosed old idol, you?" Parker demanded, +with difficulty repressing his laughter. +</P> + +<P> +"I am ol' man," Pablo answered with just the correct shade of +deprecation, "but long time ago I have feel like my <I>corazon</I>—my +heart—goin' make barbecue in my belly. I am in love. I know. Nobody +can fool me. An' those boy, Don Miguel, I tell you, <I>señor</I>, hee's +crazy for love weeth the Señorita Kay." +</P> + +<P> +Parker crooked his finger, and in obedience to the summons Pablo +approached the bench. +</P> + +<P> +"How do you know all this, Pablo?" +</P> + +<P> +Let us here pause and consider. In the summer of 1769 a dashing, +care-free Catalonian soldier in the company of Don Gaspar de Portola, +while swashbuckling his way around the lonely shores of San Diego Bay, +had encountered a comely young squaw. <I>Mira, señores</I>! Of the blood +that flowed in the veins of Pablo Artelan, thirty-one-thirty-seconds +was Indian, but the other one-thirty-second was composed of equal parts +of Latin romance and conceit. +</P> + +<P> +Pablo's great moment had arrived. Lowly peon that he was, he knew +himself at this moment to be a most important personage; death would +have been preferable to the weakness of having failed to take advantage +of it. +</P> + +<P> +"Why I know, Señor Parker?" Pablo laughed briefly, lightly, +mirthlessly, his cacchination carefully designed to convey the +impression that he considered the question extremely superfluous. With +exasperating deliberation he drew forth his little bag of tobacco and a +brown cigarette paper; he smiled as he dusted into the cigarette paper +the requisite amount of tobacco. With one hand he rolled the +cigarette; while wetting the flap with his garrulous tongue, he gazed +out upon the San Gregorio as one who looks beyond a lifted veil. +</P> + +<P> +He answered his own question. "Well, <I>señor</I>—and you, <I>señora</I>! I +tell you. <I>Por nada</I>—forgeeve; please, I speak the Spanish—for +notheeng, those boy he poke weeth hee's thumb the rib of me." +</P> + +<P> +"No?" cried John Parker, feigning profound amazement. +</P> + +<P> +"<I>Es verdad</I>. Eet ees true, <I>señor</I>. Those boy hee's happy, no? Eh?" +</P> + +<P> +"Apparently." +</P> + +<P> +"You bet you my life. Well, las' night those boy hee's peench weeth +his thumb an' theese fingair—what you suppose?" +</P> + +<P> +"I give it up, Pablo." +</P> + +<P> +Pablo wiped away with a saddle-colored paw a benignant and paternal +smile. He wagged his head and scuffed his heel in the dirt. He +feasted his soul on the sensation that was his. +</P> + +<P> +"Those boy hee's peench—" a dramatic pause. Then: +</P> + +<P> +"Eef you tell to Don Miguel those things I tol' you—<I>Santa +Marias</I>—Hees cut my throat." +</P> + +<P> +"We will respect your confidence, Pablo," Mrs. Parker hastened to +assure the traitor. +</P> + +<P> +"All right. Then I tol' to you what those boy peench—weeth hees thumb +an' thees fingair. <I>Mira</I>. Like thees." +</P> + +<P> +"Cut out the pantomime and disgorge the information, for the love of +heaven," Parker pleaded. +</P> + +<P> +"He peench"—Pablo's voice rose to a pseudo-feminine screech—"the +cheek of"—he whirled upon Mrs. Parker and transfixed her with a +tobacco-stained index finger—"Señorita Parker, so help me, by Jimmy, +eef I tell you some lies I hope I die pretty queeck." +</P> + +<P> +Both the Parkers stared at the old man blankly. He continued: +</P> + +<P> +"He peench—queeck—like that. He don' know hee's goin' for +peench—hees all time queeck like that—he don' theenk. But after +those boy hee's peench the cheen of those girl, hee's got red in the +face like black-bird's weeng. 'Oh,' he say, 'I am sky-blue eedete-ot,' +an' he run away queeck before he forget heemself an' peench those girl +some more." +</P> + +<P> +John Parker turned gravely to his wife. "Old hon," he murmured softly, +"Don Mike Farrel is a pinch-bug. He pinched Kay's chin during a mental +lapse; then he remembered he was still under my thumb and he cursed +himself for a sky-blue idiot." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, John, dear, I'm so glad." There were tears in Mrs. Parker's eyes. +"Aren't you, John?" +</P> + +<P> +"No, I'm not," he replied savagely. "I think it's an outrage and I'd +speak to Farrel about it if it were not apparent nobody realizes more +keenly than does he the utter impossibility of permitting his fancy to +wander in that direction." +</P> + +<P> +"John Parker, you're a hard-hearted man," she cried, and left him in +high dudgeon, to disappear into the garden. As the gate closed behind +her, John Parker drew forth his pocket book and abstracted from it a +hundred-dollar bill, which he handed to Pablo Artelan. +</P> + +<P> +"We have had our little differences, Pablo," he informed that astounded +individual, "but we're gradually working around toward a true spirit of +brotherly love. In the language of the classic, Pablo, I'm here to +tell the cock-eyed world that you're one good Indian." +</P> + +<P> +Pablo swept his old <I>sombrero</I> to the ground, "<I>Gracias, <I>señor</I>, mille +gracias</I>," he murmured, and shuffled away with his prize. +</P> + +<P> +Verily, the ways of this Gringo were many and mysterious. To-day one +hated him; to-morrow——— +</P> + +<P> +"There is no doubt about it," Pablo soliloquized, "it is better to be +the head of a mouse than the tail of a lion!" +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap30"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XXX +</H3> + + +<P> +The following day Don Mike, Pablo and the latter's male relatives, who +had so mysteriously appeared on the premises, were early ahorse, +driving to El Toro the three hundred-odd head of cattle of all ages and +sizes rounded up on the Palomar. The cattle were corraled at a ranch +half-way to El Toro the first night, and there watered and fed; the +following night they were in the cattle pens at El Toro, and the +following day Farrel loaded them aboard the cars and shipped them out +to Los Angeles, accompanying the shipment personally. Two days later +he was back on the ranch, and the Parkers noticed that his exuberant +spirits had not in the least subsided. +</P> + +<P> +"I'd give a ripe peach to know what that fellow is up to," John Parker +complained. "Confidentially, I've had him shadowed from the moment he +arrived in Los Angeles until the moment he returned to El Toro and +started back for the ranch. He has conferred with nobody except the +stock-yard people. Nevertheless, he has a hen on." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, and that hen will hatch a young bald-headed eagle to scratch your +eyes out," his daughter reminded him, whereat he chuckled. +</P> + +<P> +"Old Bill Conway's drilling away at his dam-site," he volunteered +presently, "and his suit against me for damages, due to breach of +contract, is set for trial so far down Judge Morton's calendar that the +old judge will have to use a telescope to find it. However, I +shouldn't charge the judge with a lack of interest in my affairs, for +he has rendered a judgment in my favor in the matter of that mortgage +foreclosure and announced from the bench that if this judgment doesn't +stick he'll throw the case out of court the next time it is presented +for trial. I wonder what Farrel's next move will be?" +</P> + +<P> +"I heard him announce that he was going to get ready for the <I>fiesta</I>," +Kay replied. +</P> + +<P> +For two weeks he was busy harrowing, disking and rolling the old +race-track; he repainted the weather-beaten poles and reshingled the +judge's stand; he repaired the fence and installed an Australian +starting-gate, dug a pit for the barbecue and brought forth, repaired +and set up under the oaks close to the race-tracks, thirty long wooden +tables at which, in an elder and more romantic day, the entire +countryside, as guests of the Farrels and Noriagas, had gathered to +feast. Farrel worked hard and saw but little of his guests, except at +meal-times; he retired somewhat early each night and, insofar as his +guests could note, he presented a most commendable example of a young +man whose sole interest in life lay in his work. +</P> + +<P> +"When do you plan to give your <I>fiesta</I>, Miguel?" Kay inquired one +evening as they sat, according to custom, on the veranda. +</P> + +<P> +"In about a month," he replied. "I've got to fatten my steers and +harden them on a special diet before we barbecue them. Don Nicolás +Sandoval will have charge of the feast, and if I furnished him with +thin, tough range steers, he'd charge me with modernism and disown me. +Old Bill Conway never would forget it. He'd nag me to my grave." +</P> + +<P> +"When do we give Panchito his try-out, Don Mike?" +</P> + +<P> +"The track is ready for it now, Kay, and Pablo tells me Panchito's +half-brother is now a most dutiful member of society and can get there +in a hurry when he's sent for. But he's only a half thoroughbred. +Shall we start training to-morrow?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, goody. By all means." +</P> + +<P> +The long and patient methods of education to which a green race-horse +is subjected were unknown on the Rancho Palomar. Panchito was a +trained saddle animal, wise, sensible, courageous and with a prodigious +faith that his rider would get him safely out of any jam into which +they might blunder together. The starting-gate bothered him at first, +but after half a dozen trials, he realized that the web, flying upward, +had no power to hurt him and was, moreover, the signal for a short, +jolly contest of speed with his fellows of the rancho. Before the week +was out he was "breaking" from the barrier with speed and serenity born +of the knowledge that this was exactly what was expected of him; +whereupon the other horses that Don Mike used to simulate a field of +competitors, took heart of hope at Panchito's complacency and broke +rather well with him. +</P> + +<P> +Those were long, lazy days on the Palomar. June had cast its withering +smile upon the San Gregorio and the green hills had turned to a parched +brown. Grasshoppers whirred everywhere; squirrels whistled; occasional +little dust-devils whirled up the now thoroughly dry river-bed and the +atmosphere was redolent of the aroma of dust and tarweed. Pablo and +his dusky relatives, now considerably augmented (albeit Don Mike had +issued no invitation to partake of his hospitality), trained colts as +roping horses or played Mexican monte in the shade of the help's +quarters. Occasionally they roused themselves long enough to justify +their inroads upon Don Mike's groceries by harvesting a forty-acre +field of alfalfa and irrigating it for another crop, for which purpose +a well had been sunk in the bed of the dry San Gregorio. +</P> + +<P> +The wasted energies of these peons finally commenced to irritate John +Parker. +</P> + +<P> +"How long are you going to tolerate the presence of this healthy lot of +<I>cholo</I> loafers and grafters, Farrel?" he demanded one day. "Have you +any idea of what it is costing you to support that gang?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," Farrel replied. "About ten dollars a day." +</P> + +<P> +"You cannot afford that expense." +</P> + +<P> +"I know it. But then, they're the local color, they've always been and +they will continue to be while I have title to this ranch. Why, their +hearts would be broken if I refused them permission to nestle under the +cloak of my philanthropy, and he is a poor sort of white man who will +disappoint a poor devil of a <I>cholo</I>." +</P> + +<P> +"You're absolutely incomprehensible," Parker declared. +</P> + +<P> +Farrel laughed. "You're not," he replied. "Know anything about a +stop-watch?" +</P> + +<P> +"I know <I>all</I> about one." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, your daughter has sent to San Francisco for the best stop-watch +money can buy, and it's here. I've had my father's old stop-watch +cleaned and regulated. Panchito's on edge and we're going to give him +a half-mile tryout to-morrow, so I want two stop-watches on him. Will +you oblige, sir?" +</P> + +<P> +Parker willingly consented, and the following morning Farrel and his +guests repaired to the race-track. Kay, mounted on Panchito in racing +gear, was, by courtesy, given a position next to the rail. Eighty +pounds of dark meat, answering to the name of Allesandro Trujillo and +claiming Pablo Artelan as his grandfather, drew next position on +Peep-sight, as Farrel had christened Panchito's half-brother, while +three other half-grown <I>cholo</I> youths, gathered at random here and +there, faced the barrier on the black mare, the old gray roping horse +and a strange horse belonging to one of the volunteer jockeys. +</P> + +<P> +There was considerable backing, filling and some bucking at the +barrier, and Pablo and two of his relatives, acting as starters, were +kept busy straightening out the field. Finally, with a shrill yip, +Pablo released the web and the flighty young Peep-sight was away in +front, with the black mare's nose at his saddle-girth and the field +spread out behind him, with Panchito absolutely last. +</P> + +<P> +At the quarter-pole Kay had worked her mount easily up through the ruck +to contend with Peep-sight. The half-thoroughbred was three years old +and his muscles had been hardened by many a wild scramble up and down +the hills of El Palomar; he was game, he was willing, and for half a +mile he was marvelously fast, as Farrel had discovered early in the +tryouts. Indeed, as a "quarter-horse" Farrel knew that few horses +might beat the comparatively green Peep-sight and he had been +indiscreet enough to make that statement in the presence of youthful +Allesandro Trujillo, thereby filling that young hopeful with a +tremendous ambition to race the famed Panchito into submission for the +mere sport of a race. +</P> + +<P> +In a word, Allesandro's Indian blood was up. If there was anything he +loved, it was a horse-race for money, chalk, marbles or fun. Therefore +when a quick glance over his shoulder showed Panchito's blazed face at +Peep-sight's rump, Allesandro clucked to his mount, gathered the reins +a trifle tighter and dug his dirty bare heels into Peep-sight's ribs, +for he was riding bareback, as an Indian should. Peep-sight responded +to the invitation with such alacrity that almost instantly he had +opened a gap of two full lengths between himself and Kay on Panchito. +</P> + +<P> +Farrel and Parker, holding their stop-watches, watched the race from +the judge's stand. +</P> + +<P> +"By Jove, that Peep-sight <I>is</I> a streak," Parker declared admiringly. +"He can beat Panchito at that distance, even at proportionate weights +and with an even break at the start." +</P> + +<P> +Farrel nodded, his father's old racing-glass fixed on Allesandro and +Kay. The girl had "gathered" her mount; she was leaning low on his +powerful neck and Farrel knew that she was talking to him, riding him +out as he had never been ridden before. And he was responding. Foot +by foot he closed the distance that Peep-sight had opened up, but +within a hundred yards of the finish Allesandro again called upon his +mount for some more of the same, and the gallant Peep-sight flattened +himself perceptibly and held his own; nor could Panchito's greatest +efforts gain upon the flying half-breed a single inch. +</P> + +<P> +"Bully for the Indian kid," Parker yelled. "Man, man, that's a horse +race." +</P> + +<P> +"They'll never stop at the half-mile pole," Farrel laughed. "That race +will be won by Panchito when Panchito wins it. Ah, I told you so." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, Peep-sight wins at the half by one open length—and the <I>cholo</I> +boy is using a switch on him!" +</P> + +<P> +"He's through. Panchito is gaining on him. He'll pass him at the +three-quarter pole." +</P> + +<P> +"Right-o, Farrel. Panchito wins by half a length at the three-quarter +pole———" +</P> + +<P> +"I wish Kay would pull him up," Farrel complained. "He's gone too far +already and there she is still heading for home like the devil beating +tan-bark … well, if she breaks him down she's going to be out the +grandest saddle animal in the state of California. That's all I have +to say… Kay, Kay, girl, what's the matter with you? Pull him +up … by the blood of the devil, she can't pull him up. She's broken a +rein and he's making a run of it on his own." +</P> + +<P> +"Man, look at that horse go." +</P> + +<P> +"Man, look at him come!" +</P> + +<P> +Panchito had swung into the home-stretch, his white face and white +front legs rising and falling with the strong, steady rhythm of the +horse whose stout heart refuses to acknowledge defeat, the horse who +still has something left for a supreme effort at the finish. +</P> + +<P> +"There is a true race-horse," Parker cried exultantly. "I once won a +ten-thousand-dollar purse with a dog that wasn't fit to appear on the +same track with that Panchito." +</P> + +<P> +The big chestnut thudded by below them, stretched to the limit of his +endurance, passed what would have been the finish had the race been a +mile and a sixteenth, and galloped up the track with the broken +bridle-rein dangling. He slowed down as he came to the other horses in +the race, now jogging back to the judge's stand, and one of the <I>cholo</I> +youths spurred alongside of him, caught the dangling rein and led him +back to the judge's stand. +</P> + +<P> +Kay's face was a little bit white as she smiled up at her father and +Farrel. "The old darling ran away with me," she called. +</P> + +<P> +Farrel was instantly at her side and had lifted her out of the saddle. +She clung to him for the barest moment, trembling with fear and +excitement, before turning to examine Panchito, from whom Pablo had +already stripped the saddle. He was badly blown, as trembly as the +girl herself, and dripping with sweat, but when Pablo slipped the +headstall on him and commenced to walk him up and down to "cool him +out," Don Mike's critical eye failed to observe any evil effects from +the long and unaccustomed race. +</P> + +<P> +John Parker came down out of the grand stand, his thumb still tightly +pressing the stem of his stop-watch, which he thrust under Farrel's +nose. +</P> + +<P> +"Look, you star-spangled ignoramus, look," he yelled. "You own a horse +that's fit to win the Melbourne Cup or the American Derby, and you +don't know it. What do you want for him? Give you ten thousand for +him this minute—and I am not so certain that race hasn't hurt him." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, I don't want to sell Panchito. I can make this ranch pay ten +thousand dollars, but I cannot breed another Panchito on it." +</P> + +<P> +"Farrel, if you refuse to sell me that horse I'm going to sit right +down here and weep. Son, I don't know a soul on earth who can use +twelve—yes, fifteen—thousand dollars handier than you can." +</P> + +<P> +Don Mike smiled his lazy, tantalizing smile. "I might as well be broke +as the way I am," he protested. "What's a paltry fifteen thousand +dollars to a man who needs half a million? Mr. Parker, my horse is not +for sale at any price." +</P> + +<P> +"You mean that?" +</P> + +<P> +"Absolutely." +</P> + +<P> +John Parker sighed. Since that distant day when he had decided that he +could afford such a luxury, his greatest delight had been in owning and +"fussing" with a few really great race-horses. He had owned some +famous sprinters, but his knowledge of the racing game had convinced +him that, could he but acquire Panchito, he would be the owner of a +true king of the turf. The assurance that, with all his great wealth, +this supreme delight was denied him, was a heavy blow. +</P> + +<P> +Kay slipped her arm through his. "Don't cry, pa, please! We'll wait +until Don Mike loses all his sheep and cow money and then we'll buy +Panchito for a song." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, Kay, little girl, that horse is a peach. I think I'd give a +couple of toes for the fun of getting my old trainer Dan Leighton out +here, training this animal quietly up here in the valley where nobody +could get a line on his performances, then shipping him east to +Saratoga, where I'd put a good boy on him, stick him in rotten company +and win enough races to qualify him for the biggest event of the year. +And then! Oh, how I would steal the Derby from John H. Hatfield and +his four-year-old wonder. I owe Hatfield a poke anyhow. We went +raiding together once and the old sinner double-crossed me." +</P> + +<P> +"Who is John H. Hatfield?" Don Mike queried mildly. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, he's an aged sinner down in Wall Street. He works hard to make +the New Yorkers support his racing stables. Poor old John! All he has +is some money and one rather good horse." +</P> + +<P> +"And you wish to police this Hatfield person, sir?" +</P> + +<P> +"If I could, I'd die happy, Farrel." +</P> + +<P> +"Very well. Send for your old trainer, train Panchito, try him out a +bit at Tia Juana, Lower California, at the meeting this winter, ship +him to Saratoga and make Señor Hatfield curse the day he was born. I +have a very excellent reason for not selling Panchito to you, but never +let it be said that I was such a poor sport I refused to loan him to +you—provided, of course, Kay agrees to this course. He's her mount, +you know, while she's on El Palomar." +</P> + +<P> +Parker turned to his daughter. "Kay," he demanded, "do you love your +poor old father?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, I do, pa, but you can't have Panchito until you do something for +me." +</P> + +<P> +"Up jumped the devil! What do you want?" +</P> + +<P> +"If you accept a favor from Miguel Farrel you ought to be sport enough +to grant him one. If you ever expect to see Panchito in your racing +colors out in front at the American Derby, Miguel must have a renewal +of his mortgage." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, the devil take that mortgage. You and your mother never give me a +moment's peace about it. You make me feel like a criminal; it's +getting so I'll have to sit around playing mumbley-peg in order to get +a thrill in my old age. You win, Kay. Farrel, I will grant you a +renewal of the mortgage. I'm weary of being a Shylock." +</P> + +<P> +"Thanks ever so much. I do not desire it, Mr. Parker. One of these +bright days when I get around to it, and provided luck breaks my way, +I'll take up that mortgage before the redemption period expires. I +have resolved to live my life free from the shadow of an accursed +mortgage. Let me see, now. We were talking about horse-racing, were +we not?" +</P> + +<P> +"Miguel Farrel, you'd anger a sheep," Parker cried wrathfully, and +strode away toward his automobile waiting in the infield. Kay and Don +Mike watched him drive straight across the valley to the road and turn +in the direction of El Toro. +</P> + +<P> +"Wilder than a March hare," Don Mike commented. +</P> + +<P> +"Not at all," Kay assured him. "He's merely risking his life in his +haste to reach El Toro and telegraph Dan Leighton to report +immediately." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap31"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XXXI +</H3> + + +<P> +John Parker's boredom had been cured by a stop-watch. One week after +Panchito had given evidence of his royal breeding, Parker's old +trainer, Dan Leighton, arrived at the Palomar. Formerly a jockey, he +was now in his fiftieth year, a wistful little man with a puckered, +shrewd face, which puckered more than usual when Don Mike handed him +Panchito's pedigree. +</P> + +<P> +"He's a marvelous horse, Danny," Parker assured the old trainer. +</P> + +<P> +"No thanks to him. He ought to be," Leighton replied. His cool glance +measured Allesandro Trujillo, standing hard by. "I'll have that dusky +imp for an exercise boy," he announced. "He's built like an +aeroplane—all superstructure and no solids." +</P> + +<P> +For a month the training of Panchito went on each morning. Pablo's +grandson, under Danny Leighton's tuition, proved an excellent exercise +boy. He learned to sit his horse in the approved jockey fashion; proud +beyond measure at the part he was playing, he paid strict attention to +Leighton's instructions and progressed admirably. +</P> + +<P> +Watching the horse develop under skilled scientific training, it +occurred to Don Mike each time he held his father's old stop-watch on +Panchito that race-horses had, in a great measure, conduced to the ruin +of the Noriagas and Farrels, and something told him that Panchito was +likely to prove the instrument for the utter financial extinction of +the last survivor of that famous tribe. "If he continues to improve," +Farrel told himself, "he's worth a bet—and a mighty heavy one. +Nevertheless, Panchito's grandfather, leading his field by six open +lengths in the home-stretch, going strong and a sure-fire winner, +tangled his feet, fell on his nose and cost my father a thousand steers +six months before they were ready for market. I ought to leave John +Parker to do all the betting on Panchito, but—well, he's a +race-horse—and I'm a Farrel." +</P> + +<P> +"When will Panchito be ripe to enter in a mile and a sixteenth race?" +he asked Parker. +</P> + +<P> +"About the middle of November. The winter meeting will be on at Tia +Juana, Baja California, then, and Leighton wants to give him a few +try-outs there in fast company over a much shorter course. We will win +with him in a field of ordinary nags and we will be careful not to win +too far or too spectacularly. We have had his registry brought up to +date and of course you will be of record as his owner. In view of our +plans, it would never do for Danny and me to be connected with him in +any way." +</P> + +<P> +Don Mike nodded and rode over to Agua Caliente Basin to visit Bill +Conway. Mr. Conway was still on the job, albeit Don Mike hazarded a +guess that the old schemer had spent almost two hundred thousand +dollars. His dam was, as he facetiously remarked, "taking concrete +shape," and he was rushing the job in order to have the structure +thoroughly dry and "set" against the coming of the winter rains. To +his signal relief, Farrel asked him no embarrassing questions regarding +the identity of the extremely kind-hearted person who was financing +him; he noticed that his young friend appeared a trifle pre-occupied +and depressed. And well he might be. The secret knowledge that he was +obligated to Kay Parker to the extent of the cost of this dam was +irritating to his pride; while he felt that her loving interest and +sympathy, so tremendously manifested, was in itself a debt he would +always rejoice in because he never could hope to repay it, it did irk +him to be placed in the position of never being able to admit his +knowledge of her action. He prayed that Bill Conway would be enabled +to complete the dam as per his contract; that Judge Morton would then +rush to trial Conway's suit for damages against Parker for +non-performance of contract; that Conway would be enabled immediately +to reimburse himself through Parker's assets which he had attached, +repay Kay and close the transaction. +</P> + +<P> +On November fifteenth Danny Leighton announced that Panchito was "right +on edge" and, with a few weeks of experience in professional company, +fit to make the race of his career. The winter meeting was already on +at Tia Juana and, with Farrel's consent, Panchito was lovingly +deposited in a well-padded crate mounted on a motor truck and +transported to El Toro. Here he was loaded in an express car and, +guarded by Don Mike, shipped not to Tia Juana, as Parker and his +trainer both supposed he would be, but to San Diego, sixteen miles +north of the international boundary—a change of plan originating with +Farrel and by him kept a secret from Parker and Danny Leighton. With +Panchito went an ancient Saratoga trunk, Pablo Artelan, and little +Allesandro Trujillo, ragged and bare-footed as usual. +</P> + +<P> +Upon arriving in San Diego Don Mike unloaded Panchito at the Santa Fe +depot. Gone now were the leg bandages and the beautiful blanket with +which Danny Leighton had furnished Panchito at starting. These things +proclaimed the race-horse, and that was not part of Don Mike's plan. +He led the animal to a vacant lot a few blocks from the depot and, +leaving him there in charge of Pablo, went up town to the Mexican +consulate and procured passports into Baja California for himself and +Allesandro. From the consulate he went to a local stock-yard and +purchased a miserable, flea-bitten, dejected saddle mule, together with +a dilapidated old stock saddle with a crupper, and a well-worn +horse-hair hackamore. +</P> + +<P> +Returning to the depot, he procured his old Saratoga trunk from the +station master and removed from it the beautiful black-leather, +hand-carved, silver-mounted stock saddle he had won at a <I>rodeo</I> some +years previous; a pair of huge, heavy, solid silver Mexican spurs, with +tan carved-leathern straps, and a finely plaited hand-made rawhide +bridle, <I>sans</I> throat-latch and brow-band and supporting a long, cruel, +solid silver Spanish bit, with silver chain chin-strap and heavily +embossed. In this gear he arrayed Panchito, and then mounted him. +Allesandro mounted the flea-bitten mule, the old Saratoga trunk was +turned over to Pablo, and with a fervent "<I>Adios</I>, Don Miguel. Go with +God!" from the old majordomo, Don Mike and his little companion rode +south through the city toward the international boundary. +</P> + +<P> +They crossed at Tecarte next day and in the somnolent little border +town Don Mike made sundry purchases and proceeded south on the road +toward Ensenada. +</P> + +<P> +Meanwhile, John Parker, his wife and daughter and Danny Leighton had +motored to San Diego and taken rooms at a hotel there. Each day they +attended the races at Tia Juana, and as often as they appeared there +they looked long and anxiously for Don Miguel José Federico Noriaga +Farrel. But in vain. +</P> + +<P> +Three days before Thanksgiving the entries for the Thanksgiving +handicap were announced, and when Danny Leighton read them in the +morning paper he at once sought his employer. +</P> + +<P> +"That fellow Farrel has spoiled everything," he complained furiously. +"He's entered Panchito in the Thanksgiving Handicap at a mile and a +sixteenth, for a ten thousand dollar purse. There he is!" +</P> + +<P> +Parker read the list and sighed. "Well, Panchito is his horse, Danny. +He has a right to enter him if he pleases—hello! Katie! Kay! Here's +news for you. Listen!" +</P> + +<P> +He read aloud: +</P> + +<BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +DON QUIXOTE AND SANCHO PANZA, JR. +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +ARRIVE AT TIA JUANA—THEY ENTER PANCHITO <BR> +IN THE THANKSGIVING HANDICAP +</H4> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +<I>By the Rail Bird</I> +</H4> + +<P> +Considerable interest having developed among the followers of the sport +of kings at Tia Juana race-track anent the entry of Panchito in the +Thanksgiving Handicap, and the dope books yielding nothing, your +correspondent hied him to the office of the secretary of the Lower +California Jockey Club; whereupon he was regaled with the following +extraordinary tale: +</P> + +<P> +Two days ago a Mexican rode into Tia Juana from the south. He was +riding Panchito and his outfit was the last word in Mexican +magnificence. His saddle had cost him not a <I>real</I> less than five +hundred dollars gold; his silver spurs could have been pawned in any +Tia Juana loan office for twenty-five dollars and many a longing glance +was cast on a magnificent bridle that would have cost any bricklayer a +month's pay. Panchito, a splendid big chestnut with two white +stockings and a blazed face, was gray with sweat and alkali dust and +shod like a plow horse. He wore cactus burrs in his tail and mane and +had evidently traveled far. +</P> + +<P> +His rider claimed to have been on the road a week, and his soiled +clothing and unshaven face gave ample testimony of that fact. He was +arrayed in the traditional costume of the Mexican ranchero of means and +spoke nothing but Spanish, despite which handicap the racing secretary +gleaned that his name was Don Miguel José Maria Federico Noriaga +Farrelle. Following Don Miguel came Sancho Panza, Junior, a stringy +Indian youth of fourteen summers, mounted on an ancient flea-bitten +mule. The food and clothing of these two adventurers were carried +behind them on their saddles. +</P> + +<P> +An interpreter informed the secretary that Don Miguel was desirous of +entering his horse, Panchito, in the Thanksgiving Handicap. The +horse's registration papers being in order, the entry was accepted, Don +Quixote and Sancho Panza, Junior, were each given a badge, and a stall +was assigned to Panchito. At the same time Don Quixote made +application for an apprentice license for young Sancho Panza, who +answers to the name of Allesandro Trujillo, when the <I>enchiladas</I> are +ready. +</P> + +<P> +Panchito, it appears, is a five-year-old, bred by Michael J. Farrel, +whose post-office address is El Toro, San Marcos County, California. +He is bred in the purple, being a descendant of Duke of Norfolk and, +according to his present owner, Don Quixote, he can run circles around +an antelope and has proved it in a number of scrub races at various +<I>fiestas</I> and celebrations. According to Don Quixote, his horse has +never hitherto appeared on a public race-track. Panchito knows far +more about herding and roping steers than he does about professional +racing, and enters the list with no preparation other than the daily +exercise afforded in bearing his owner under a forty-pound stock saddle +and scrambling through the cactus after longhorns. Evidently Don +Quixote knows it all. He brushed aside with characteristic Castilian +grace some well-meant advice tendered him by his countrymen, who have +accumulated much racing wisdom since the bang-tails have come to Tia +Juana. He spent the entire day yesterday telling everybody who +understands Spanish what a speed marvel is his Panchito, while Sancho +Panza, Junior, galloped Panchito gently around the track and warmed him +in a few quarter-mile sprints. It was observed that the cactus burrs +were still decorating Panchito's tail and mane. +</P> + +<P> +Don Quixote is a dead game Mexican sport, however. He has a roll that +would choke a hippopotamus and appears willing to bet them as high as a +hound's back. +</P> + +<P> +Figure it out for yourself. You pays your money and you takes your +choice. Bobby Wilson, the handicapper, says Don Quixote smokes +<I>marihuana</I>, but the <I>jefe politico</I> says he knows it's the fermented +juice of the century plant. However, Bobby is taking no chances as the +wise ones will note when they check the weights. Panchito, being a +powerful horse and (according to Don Quixote) absolutely unbeatable, +faces the barrier with an impost of 118 pounds, not counting his shoes, +cactus burrs and stable accumulations. +</P> + +<P> +Watch for Sancho Panza, Junior. He rides barefooted in a two-piece +uniform, to wit, one "nigger" shirt and a pair of blue bib overalls, +and he carries a willow switch. +</P> + +<P> +<I>Viva</I> Panchito. <I>Viva</I> Don Quixote. <I>Ditto</I> Sancho Panza, Junior. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +John Parker finished reading and his glance sought Leighton's. +"Danny," he informed the trainer in a low voice, "here is what I call a +dirty, low, Irish trick. I suppose he's been making a night-bird out +of Panchito, but you can bet your last nickel he isn't neglecting him +when they're alone in the barn together. He gets a grooming then; he +gets well fed and well rubbed and the cactus burrs and the stable +accumulations are only scenery when Panchito's on parade. He removed +the racing plates you put on Panchito and substituted heavy work shoes, +but—Panchito will go to the post with racing plates. I think we had +better put a bet down on him." +</P> + +<P> +"I wouldn't bet tin money on him," Danny Leighton warned. "He can +outrun anything in that field, even if he has broken training a little, +but those wise little jockeys on the other horses will never let him +win. They'll pocket him and keep him there." +</P> + +<P> +"They'll not!" Kay's voice rose sharply. "Panchito will be off first, +no matter what position he draws, and Don Mike's orders to Allesandro +will be to keep him in front. But you are not to bet on him, father." +</P> + +<P> +"Why not? Of course I shall bet on him." +</P> + +<P> +"You know very well, Dad, that there are no book-makers of Tia Juana to +make the odds. The Paris Mutuel system obtains here and the public +makes the odds. Consequently the more money bet on Panchito the lower +will be his price. I'm certain Don Mike will bet every dollar he has +in the world on Panchito, but he will bet it, through trusted agents, +in pool-rooms all over the country. The closing price here should be +such that the pool-rooms should pay Don Mike not less than fifteen to +one." +</P> + +<P> +"So you've been his confidante, have you?" Parker scrutinized his +daughter quizzically. +</P> + +<P> +"He had to take somebody into his confidence in order to have his plans +protected," she confessed blushingly. +</P> + +<P> +"Quite so! Somebody with a deal of influence," Mrs. Parker +interjected. "John, this is simply delicious. That rascal of a Don +Miguel has reverted to type. He has put aside his Celtic and Gaelic +blood and turned Mexican. He tells people the truth about his horse +and a reporter with a sense of humor has advertised these truths by +writing a funny story about him and Panchito and the Indian imp." +</P> + +<P> +"They'll have him up in the judge's stand for an explanation five +minutes after the race is won," Danny Leighton declared. "Panchito +will be under suspicion of being a ringer and the payment of bets will +be held up." +</P> + +<P> +"In which case, dad," Kay reminded him demurely, "you and Mr. Leighton +will be furnished with an excellent opportunity to prove yourselves +heroes. Both of you will go to the judge's stand immediately and vouch +for Don Mike and Panchito. If you do not I shall—and I fancy John +Parker's daughter's testimony will be given some consideration, Mr. +John Parker being very well known to every racing judge in America." +</P> + +<P> +"There are days," murmured John Parker sadly, "when I find it +impossible to lay up a cent. I have nurtured a serpent in my bosom." +</P> + +<P> +"Tush! There are no snakes in Ireland," his humorous wife reminded +him. "What if Don Mike has hoisted you on your own petard? Few men +have done as much," and she pinched his arm lovingly. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap32"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XXXII +</H3> + + +<P> +Four days before Thanksgiving Brother Anthony returned from El Toro +with Father Dominic's little automobile purring as it had not purred +for many a day, for expert mechanics had given the little car a +thorough overhauling and equipped it with new tires and brake lining at +the expense of Miguel Farrel. Father Dominic looked the rejuvenated +ruin over with prideful eyes and his saintly old face puckered in a +smile. +</P> + +<P> +"Brother Anthony," he declared to that mildly crack-brained person, +"that little conveyance has been responsible for many a furious +exhibition of temper on your part. But God is good. He will forgive +you, and has He not proved it by moving our dear Don Mike to save you +from the plague of repairing it for many months to come?" +</P> + +<P> +Brother Anthony, whose sense of humor, had he ever possessed one, had +long since been ruined in his battles with Father Dominic's automobile, +raised a dour face. +</P> + +<P> +"Speaking of Don Miguel, I am informed that our young Don Miguel has +gone to Baja California, there to race Panchito publicly for a purse of +ten thousand dollars gold. I would, Father Dominic, that I might see +that race." +</P> + +<P> +Father Dominic laid his hand on poor Brother Anthony's shoulder. +"Because you have suffered for righteousness' sake, Brother Anthony, +your wish shall be granted. Tomorrow you shall drive Pablo and +Carolina and me to Tia Juana in Baja California to see Panchito race on +the afternoon of Thanksgiving Day. We will attend mass in San Diego in +the morning and pray for victory for him and his glorious young master." +</P> + +<P> +Big tears stood in Brother Anthony's eyes. At last! At last! Poor +Brother Anthony was a human being, albeit his reason tottered on its +throne at certain times of the moon. He did love race-horses and +horse-races, and for a quarter of a century he had been trying to +forget them in the peace and quiet of the garden of the Mission de la +Madre Dolorosa. +</P> + +<P> +"Our Don Mike has made this possible?" he quavered. Father Dominic +nodded. +</P> + +<P> +"God will pay him," murmured Brother Anthony, and hastened away to the +chapel to remind the Almighty of the debt. +</P> + +<P> +Against the journey to Baja California, Carolina had baked a tremendous +pot of brown beans and fried a hundred tortillas. Pablo had added some +twenty pounds of jerked meat and chilli peppers, a tarpaulin Don Mike +had formerly used when camping, and a roll of bedding; and when Brother +Anthony called for them at daylight the following morning, both were up +and arrayed in their Sunday clothes and gayest colors. In an empty +tobacco sack, worn like an amulet around her fat neck and resting on +her bosom, Carolina carried some twenty-eight dollars earned as a +laundress to Kay and her mother; while in the pocket of Pablo's new +corduroy breeches reposed the two hundred-dollar bills; given him by +the altogether inexplicable Señor Parker. Knowing Brother Anthony to +be absolutely penniless (for he had taken the vow of poverty) Pablo +suffered keenly in the realization that Panchito, the pride of El +Palomar, was to run in the greatest horse race known to man, with not a +centavo of Brother Anthony's money bet on the result. Pablo knew +better than to take Father Dominic into his confidence when the latter +joined them at the Mission, but by the time they had reached El Toro, +he had solved the riddle. He changed one of his hundred dollar bills, +made up a little roll of ten two-dollar bills and slipped it in the +pocket of the brown habit where he knew Brother Anthony kept his +cigarette papers and tobacco. +</P> + +<P> +At Ventura, when they stopped at a garage to take on oil and gasoline, +Brother Anthony showed Pablo the roll of bills, amounting to twenty +dollars, and ascribed his possession of them to nothing more nor less +than a divine miracle. Pablo agreed with him. He also noticed that +for reasons best known to himself, Brother Anthony made no mention of +this miracle to his superior, Father Dominic. +</P> + +<P> +At about two o'clock on Thanksgiving Day the pilgrims from the San +Gregorio sputtered up to the entrance of the Lower California Jockey +Club at Tia Juana, parked, and approached the entrance. They were +hesitant, awed by the scenes around them. Father Dominic's rusty brown +habit and his shovel hat constituted a novel sight in these worldly +precincts, and the old Fedora hat worn by Brother Anthony was the +subject of many a sly nudge and smile. Pablo and Carolina, being +typical of the country, passed unnoticed. +</P> + +<P> +Father Dominic had approached the gateman and in his gentle old voice +had inquired the price of admittance. It was two dollars and fifty +cents! Scandalous! He was about to beat the gatekeeper down; surely +the management had special rates for prelates——— +</P> + +<P> +A hand fell on his shoulder and Don Miguel José Maria Federico Noriaga +Farrel was gazing down at him with beaming eyes. +</P> + +<P> +"Perhaps, Father Dominic," he suggested in Spanish and employing the +old-fashioned courtly tone of the <I>haciendado</I>, "you will permit me the +great honor of entertaining you." And he dropped a ten-dollar bill in +the cash box and ushered the four <I>San Gregoriaños</I> through the +turn-stile. +</P> + +<P> +"My son, my son," murmured Father Dominic. "What means this +unaccustomed dress? One would think you dwelt in the City of Mexico. +You are unshaven—you resemble a loafer in <I>cantinas</I>. That <I>sombrero</I> +is, perhaps, fit for a bandit like Pancho Villa, but, my son, you are +an American gentleman. Your beloved grandfather and your equally +beloved father never assumed the dress of our people———" +</P> + +<P> +"Hush! I'm a wild and woolly Mexican sport for a day, padre. Say +nothing and bid the others be silent and make no comment. Come with me +to the grandstand, all of you, and look at the races. Panchito will +not appear until the fifth race." +</P> + +<P> +Father Dominic bent upon Brother Anthony a glance which had the effect +of propelling the brother out of earshot, whereupon the old friar took +his young friend by the arm and lifted his seamed, sweet old face +toward him with all the <I>insouciance</I> of a child. +</P> + +<P> +"Miguel," he whispered, "I'm in the throes of temptation. I told you +of the thousand dollars which the Señora Parker, in a moment of that +great-heartedness which distinguishes her (what a triumph, could I but +baptize her in our faith!) forced Señor Parker to present to me. I +contemplate using it toward the needed repairs to the roof of our +Mission. These repairs will cost at least three thousand dollars, and +the devil has whispered to me———" +</P> + +<P> +"Say no more about it, but bet the money," said Miguel. "Be a sport, +Father Dominic, for the opportunity will never occur again. Before the +sun shall set this day, your one thousand will have grown to ten. Even +if Panchito should lose, I will guarantee you the return of your money." +</P> + +<P> +Father Dominic trembled. "Ah, my son, I feel like a little old devil," +he quavered, but—he protested no more. When Don Mike settled him in a +seat in the grand-stand, Father Dominic whispered wistfully, "God will +not hold this worldliness against me, Miguel. I feel I am here on His +business, for is not Panchito running for a new roof for our beloved +Mission? I will pray for victory." +</P> + +<P> +"Now you are demonstrating your sound common sense," Don Mike assured +him. His right hand closed over the roll of bills Father Dominic +surreptitiously slipped him. Scarcely had he transferred the +Restoration Fund to his trousers' pocket when Brother Anthony nudged +him and slipped a tiny roll into Don Miguel's left hand, accompanying +the secret transfer with a wink that was almost a sermon. +</P> + +<P> +"What news, Don Miguel?" Pablo ventured presently. +</P> + +<P> +"We will win, Pablo." +</P> + +<P> +"<I>Valgame dios</I>! I will wager my fortune on Panchito. Here it is, Don +Miguel—one hundred and eighty dollars. I know not the ways of these +Gringo races, but if the stakeholder be an honest man and known +personally to you, I will be your debtor forever if you will graciously +consent to attend to this detail for me." +</P> + +<P> +"With pleasure, Pablo." +</P> + +<P> +Carolina drew her soiled little tobacco bag from her bosom, bit the +string in two and handed bag and contents to her master, who nodded and +thrust it in his pocket. +</P> + +<P> +Two tiers up and directly in back of Don Miguel and his guests, two men +glanced meaningly at each other. +</P> + +<P> +"Did you twig that?" one of them whispered. "That crazy Greaser is a +local favorite, wherever he comes from. Those two monks and that +<I>cholo</I> and his squaw are giving him every dollar they possess to bet +on this quarter horse entered in a long race, and I'll bet five +thousand dollars he'll drop it into that machine, little realizing that +every dollar he bets on his horse here will depress the odds +proportionately." +</P> + +<P> +"It's a shame, Joe, to see all that good money dropping into the maw of +those Paris Mutuel sharks. Joe, we ought to be kicked if we allow it." +</P> + +<P> +"Can you speak Spanish?" +</P> + +<P> +"Not a word." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, let's get an interpreter. That Tia Juana policeman yonder will +do." +</P> + +<P> +"All right. I'll split the pot with you, old timer." +</P> + +<P> +Directly after the first race a Mexican policeman touched Farrel on the +arm. "Your pardon, <I>señor</I>," he murmured politely, "but two American +gentlemen have asked me to convey to you a message of importance. Will +the <I>señor</I> be good enough to step down to the betting ring with me?" +</P> + +<P> +"With the utmost delight," Don Miguel replied in his mother tongue and +followed the policeman, who explained as they proceeded toward the +betting ring the nature of the message. +</P> + +<P> +"These two gentlemen," he exclaimed, "are book-makers. While +book-makers who lay their own odds are not permitted to operate openly +and with the approval of the track authorities, there are a number of +such operating quietly here. One may trust them implicitly. They +always pay their losses—what you call true blue sports. They have +much money and it is their business in life to take bets. These two +gentlemen are convinced that your horse, Panchito, cannot possibly win +this race and they are prepared to offer you odds of ten to one for as +much money as the <I>señor</I> cares to bet. They will not move from your +side until the race is run and the bet decided. The odds they offer +you are greater than you can secure playing your money in the Mutuel." +</P> + +<P> +Don Mike halted in his tracks. "I have heard of such men. I observed +the two who talked with you and the <I>jefe politico</I> assured me +yesterday that they are reliable gentlemen. I am prepared to trust +them. Why not? Should they attempt to escape with my money when +Panchito wins—as win he will—I would quickly stop those fine +fellows." He tapped his left side under the arm-pit, and while the +policeman was too lazy and indifferent to feel this spot himself, he +assumed that a pistol nestled there. +</P> + +<P> +"I will myself guard your bet," he promised. +</P> + +<P> +They had reached the two book-makers and the policeman promptly +communicated to them Don Mike's ultimatum. The pair exchanged glances. +</P> + +<P> +"If we don't take this lunatic's money," one of them suggested +presently, "some other brave man will. I'm game." +</P> + +<P> +"It's a shame to take it, but—business is business," his companion +laughed. Then to the policeman: "How much is our high-toned Mexican +friend betting and what odds does he expect?" +</P> + +<P> +The policeman put the question. The high-toned Mexican gentleman bowed +elaborately and shrugged deprecatingly. Such a little bet! Truly, he +was ashamed, but the market for steers down south had been none too +good lately, and as for hides, one could not give them away. The +American gentlemen would think him a very poor gambler, indeed, but +twelve hundred and twenty-eight dollars was his limit, at odds of ten +to one. If they did not care to trifle with such a paltry bet, he +could not blame them, but——— +</P> + +<P> +"Holy Mackerel. Ten to one. Joe, this is like shooting fish on a +hillside. I'll take half of it." +</P> + +<P> +"I'll take what's left." +</P> + +<P> +They used their cards to register the bet and handed the memorandum to +Don Mike, who showed his magnificent white teeth in his most engaging +smile, bowed, and insisted upon shaking hands with them both, after +which the quartet sauntered back to the grand-stand and sat down among +the old shepherd and his flock. +</P> + +<P> +As the bugle called out the horses for the handicap, Father Dominic +ceased praying and craned forward. There were ten horses in the race, +and the old priest's faded eyes popped with wonder and delight as the +sleek, beautiful thoroughbreds pranced out of the paddock and passed in +single file in front of the grand-stand. The fifth horse in the parade +was Panchito—and somebody had cleaned him up, for his satiny skin +glowed in the semi-tropical sun. All the other horses in the race had +ribbons interlaced in their manes and tails, but Panchito was barren of +adornment. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, Don Quixote has had him groomed and they've combed the cactus +burrs out of his mane and tail, at any rate. He'd be a beautiful +animal if he was dolled up like the others," the book-maker, Joe, +declared. +</P> + +<P> +"Got racing plates on to-day, and that cholo kid sits him like he +intended to ride him," his companion added. "Joe, I have a suspicion +that nag is a ringer. <I>He looks like a champion</I>." +</P> + +<P> +"If he wins we'll <I>know</I> he's a ringer," Joe replied complacently. +"We'll register a protest at once. Of course, the horse is royally +bred, but he hasn't been trained, he's never been on a track before and +even if he has speed, both early and late, he'll probably be left at +the post. He's carrying one hundred and eighteen pounds and a green +<I>cholo</I> kid has the leg up. No chance, I tell you. Forget it." +</P> + +<P> +Don Mike, returning from the paddock after saddling Panchito and giving +Allesandro his final instructions, sat majestically in his seat, but +Father Dominic, Brother Anthony, Pablo and Carolina paid vociferous +tribute to their favorite and the little lad who rode him. +Allesandro's swarthy hands and face were sharply outlined against a +plain white jockey suit; somebody had loaned him a pair of riding boots +and a cap of red, white and blue silk. This much had Don Mike +sacrificed for convention, but not the willow switch. Allesandro waved +it at his master and his grandparents as he filed past. +</P> + +<P> +Pablo stood up and roared in English: "<I>Kai</I>! Allesandro! Eef you +don' win those race you grandfather hee's goin' cut you throat sure. I +look to you all the time, <I>muchacho</I>. You keep the mind on the +bus-i-ness. You hear, Allesandro <I>mio</I>?" +</P> + +<P> +Allesandro nodded, the crowd laughed and the horses went to the post. +They were at the post a minute, but got away to a perfect start. +</P> + +<P> +"Sancho Panza leads on Panchito!" the book-maker, Joe, declared as the +field swept past the grand-stand. He was following the flying horses +through his racing glasses. "Quarter horse," he informed his +companion. "Beat the gate like a shot out of a gun. King Agrippa, the +favorite, second by two lengths. Sir Galahad third. At the quarter! +Panchito leads by half a length, Sir Galahad second. King Agrippa +third! At the half! Sir Galahad first, Panchito second, King Agrippa +third! At the three-quarter pole! King Agrippa first, Panchito +second, Polly P. third. Galahad's out of it. Polly P's making her +spurt, but she can't last. Into the stretch with Panchito on the rail +and coming like he'd been sent for and delayed. Oh, Lord, Jim, that's +a horse—and we thought he was a goat! Look at him come! He's an open +length in front of Agrippa and the <I>cholo</I> hasn't used his willow +switch. Jim, we're sent to the cleaner's———" +</P> + +<P> +It was a Mexican race-track, but the audience was American and it is +the habit of Americans to cheer a winner, regardless of how they have +bet their money. A great sigh went up from the big holiday crowd. +Then, "Panchito! Come on, you Panchito! Come on, Agrippa! Ride him, +boy, ride him!" A long, hoarse howl that carried with it the hint of +sobs. +</P> + +<P> +At the paddock the gallant King Agrippa gave of the last and the best +that was in him and closed the gap in a dozen furious jumps until, as +the field swept past the grand-stand, Panchito and King Agrippa were +for a few seconds on such even terms that a sudden hush fell on the +race-mad crowd. Would this be a dead heat? Would this unknown +Panchito, fresh from the cattle ranges, divide first money with the +favorite? +</P> + +<P> +The silence was broken by a terrible cry from Pablo Artelan. +</P> + +<P> +"Allesandro! I cut your throat!" +</P> + +<P> +Whether Allesandro heard the warning or whether he had decided that +affairs had assumed a dangerous pass, matters not. He rose a trifle in +his saddle, leaned far out on Panchito's withers and delivered himself +of a tribal yell. It was a cry meant for Panchito, and evidently +Panchito understood, for he responded with the only answer a gallant +race-horse has for such occasions. A hundred feet from the wire King +Agrippa's wide-flung nostrils were at Panchito's saddle girth; under +the stimulus of a rain of blows he closed the gap again, only to drop +back and finish with daylight showing between his head and Panchito's +flowing tail. +</P> + +<P> +Father Dominic stood gazing down the track. He was trembling +violently. Brother Anthony turned lack-luster eyes toward Farrel. +</P> + +<P> +"You win, Brother Anthony," Don Mike said quietly. +</P> + +<P> +"How good is God," murmured Brother Anthony. "He has granted me a joy +altogether beyond my deserts. And the joy is sufficient. The money +will buy a few shingles for our roof." He slumped down in his seat and +wiped away great tears. +</P> + +<P> +Pablo waited not for congratulations or exultations, but scrambled down +through the grand-stand to the railing, climbed over it and dropped +down into the track, along which he jogged until he met Allesandro +galloping slowly back with Panchito. "Little treasure of the world," +he cried to the boy, "I am happy that I do not have to cut your +throat," and he lifted Allesandro out of the saddle and pressed him to +his heart. That was the faint strain of Catalonian blood in Pablo. +</P> + +<P> +Up in the grand-stand Carolina, in her great excitement, forgot that +she was Farrel's cook. When he was a baby she had nursed him and she +loved him for that. So she waddled down to him with beaming eyes—and +he patted her cheek. +</P> + +<P> +"Father Dominic," Don Mike called to the old friar, "your Mission +Restoration Fund has been increased ten thousand dollars." +</P> + +<P> +"So?" the gentle old man echoed. "Behold, Miguel, the goodness of God. +He willed that Panchito should save for you from the heathen one little +portion of our dear land; He was pleased to answer my prayers of fifty +years that I be permitted to live until I had restored the Mission of +our Mother of Sorrows." He closed his eyes. "So many long years the +priest," he murmured, "so many long years! And I am base enough to be +happy in worldly pleasures. I am still a little old devil." +</P> + +<P> +Don Mike turned to the stunned book-makers. "For some reason best +known to yourselves," he addressed them in English, bowing graciously, +"you two gentlemen have seen fit to do business with me through this +excellent representative of the civil authority of Tia Juana. We will +dispense with his services, if you have no objection. Here, my good +fellow," he added, and handed the policeman a ten-dollar bill. +</P> + +<P> +"You're not a Mexican. You're an American," the book-maker Joe cried +accusingly, "although you bragged like a Mexican." +</P> + +<P> +"Quite right. I never claimed to be a Mexican, however. I heard about +this Thanksgiving Handicap, and it seemed such a splendid opportunity +to pick up a few thousand dollars that I entered my horse. I have +complied with all the rules. This race was open to four-year-olds and +up, regardless of whether they had been entered in a race previously or +had won or lost a race. Panchito's registration will bear +investigation; so will his history. My jockey rode under an apprentice +license. May I trouble you for a settlement, gentlemen?" +</P> + +<P> +"But your horse is registered under a Mexican's name, as owner." +</P> + +<P> +"My name is Miguel José Maria Federico Noriaga Farrel." +</P> + +<P> +"We'll see the judges first, Señor Farrel." +</P> + +<P> +"By all means." +</P> + +<P> +"You bet we will. The judges smell a rat, already. The winning +numbers haven't been posted yet." +</P> + +<P> +As Don Mike and his retinue passed the Parker box, John Parker and +Danny Leighton fell in behind them and followed to the judges' stand. +Five minutes later the anxious crowd saw Panchito's number go up as the +winner. Don Mike's frank explanation that he had deceived nobody, but +had, by refraining from doing things in the usual manner, induced the +public to deceive itself and refrain from betting on Panchito, could +not be gainsaid—particularly when an inspection of the records at the +betting ring proved that not a dollar had been wagered on Panchito. +</P> + +<P> +"You played the books throughout the country, Mr. Farrel?" one of the +judges asked. +</P> + +<P> +Don Mike smiled knowingly. "I admit nothing," he replied. +</P> + +<P> +The testimony of Parker and Danny Leighton was scarcely needed to +convince the judges that nothing illegal had been perpetrated. When +Don Mike had collected his share of the purse and the book-makers, +convinced that they had been out-generaled and not swindled, had issued +checks for their losses and departed, smiling, John Parker drew Farrel +aside. +</P> + +<P> +"Son," he demanded, "did you spoil the Egyptians and put over a Roman +holiday?" +</P> + +<P> +Again Don Mike smiled his enigmatic smile. "Well," he admitted, "I'm +ready to do a little mortgage lifting." +</P> + +<P> +"I congratulate you with all my heart. For heaven's sake, take up your +mortgage immediately. I do not wish to acquire your ranch—that way. +I have never wished to, but if that droll scoundrel, Bill Conway, +hadn't managed to dig up unlimited backing to build that dam despite +me, and if Panchito hadn't cinched your case for you to-day, I would +have had no mercy on you. But I'm glad you won. You have a head and +you use it; you possess the power of decision, of initiative, you're a +sporting, kindly young gentleman and I count it a privilege to have +known you." He thrust out his hand and Don Mike shook it heartily. +</P> + +<P> +"Of course, sir," he told Parker, "King Agrippa is a good horse, but +nobody would ever think of entering him in a real classic. I told +Allesandro to be careful not to beat him too far. The time was nothing +remarkable and I do not think I have spoiled your opportunity for +winning with him in the Derby." +</P> + +<P> +"I noticed that. Thank you. And you'll loan him to me to beat that +old scoundrel I told you about?" +</P> + +<P> +"You'll have to arrange that matter with your daughter, sir. I have +raced my first and my last race for anything save the sport of a +horse-race, and I am now about to present Panchito to Miss Kay." +</P> + +<P> +"Present him? Why, you star-spangled idiot, I offered you fifteen +thousand dollars for him and you knew then I would have gone to fifty +thousand." +</P> + +<P> +Don Mike laid a patronizing hand on John Parker's shoulder. "Old +settler, you're buying Panchito and you're paying a heavier price than +you realize, only, like the overcoat in the traveling salesman's +expense account, the item isn't apparent. I'm going to sell you a dam, +the entire Agua Caliente Basin and watershed riparian rights, a site +for a power station and a right of way for power transmission lines +over my ranch. In return, you're going to agree to furnish me with +sufficient water from your dam, in perpetuity, to irrigate every acre +of the San Gregorio Valley." +</P> + +<P> +John Parker could only stare, amazed. "On one condition, Miguel," he +replied presently. "Not an acre of the farm lands of the San Gregorio +shall ever be sold, without a <I>proviso</I> in the deed that it shall never +be sold or leased to any alien ineligible to citizenship." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, ho! So you've got religion, eh?" +</P> + +<P> +"I have. Pablo dragged it into the yard last spring at the end of his +riata, and it lies buried in the San Gregorio. That makes the San +Gregorio consecrated ground. I always had an idea I was a pretty fair +American, but I dare say there's room for improvement. What do you +want for that power property?" +</P> + +<P> +"I haven't the least idea. We'll get together with experts some day +and arrive at an equitable price. +</P> + +<P> +"Thank you son. I'll not argue with you. You've given me a +first-class thrashing and the man who can do that is quite a fellow. +Nevertheless, I cannot see now where I erred in playing the game. Mind +telling me, boy?" +</P> + +<P> +"Not at all. It occurred to me—assistance by Bill Conway—that this +property must be of vital interest to two power companies, the Central +California Power Company and the South Coast Power Corporation. Two +hypotheses presented themselves for consideration. First, if you were +developing the property personally, you had no intention of operating +it yourself. You intended to sell it. Second, you were not developing +it personally, but as the agent of one of the two power companies I +mentioned. I decided that the latter was the best hypothesis upon +which to proceed. You are a multi-millionaire trained in the fine art +of juggling corporations. In all probability you approached my father +with an offer to buy the ranch and he declined. He was old and he was +sentimental, and he loved me and would not sell me out of my +birthright. You had to have that ranch, and since you couldn't buy it +you decided to acquire it by foreclosure. To do that, however, you had +to acquire the mortgage, and in order to acquire the mortgage you had +to acquire a controlling interest in the capital stock of the First +National Bank of El Toro. You didn't seem to fit into the small town +banking business; a bank with a million dollars capital is small change +to you." +</P> + +<P> +"Proceed. You're on the target, son, and something tells me you're +going to score a bull's-eye in a minute." +</P> + +<P> +"When you had acquired the mortgage following such patient steps, my +father checkmated you by making and recording a deed of gift of the +ranch to me, subject of course to the encumbrance. The war-time +moratorium, which protected men in the military or naval service from +civil actions, forced you to sit tight and play a waiting game. Then I +was reported killed in action. My poor father was in a quandary. As +he viewed it, the ranch now belonged to my estate, and I had died +intestate. Probate proceedings dragging over a couple of years were +now necessary, and a large inheritance tax would have been assessed +against the estate. My father broke under the blow and you took +possession. Then I returned—and you know the rest. +</P> + +<P> +"I knew you were powerful enough to block any kind of a banking loan I +might try to secure and I was desperate until Bill Conway managed to +arrange for his financing. Then, of course, I realized my power. With +the dam completed before the redemption period should expire, I had +something definite and tangible to offer the competitor of the power +company in which you might be interested. I was morally certain I +could save my ranch, so I disabused my mind of worry." +</P> + +<P> +"Your logical conclusions do credit to your intelligence, Miguel. +Proceed." +</P> + +<P> +"I purchased, through my attorney, a fat little block of stock in each +company. That gave me <I>entrée</I> to the company books and records. I +couldn't pick up your trail with the first company investigated—the +Central California—but before my attorney could proceed to Los Angeles +and investigate the list of stockholders and directors of the South +Coast Power Corporation, a stranger appeared at my attorney's office +and proceeded to make overtures for the purchase of the Agua Caliente +property on behalf of an unknown client. That man was in conference +with my attorney the day we all motored to El Toro via La Questa +Valley, and the instant I poked my nose inside the door my attorney +advised me—in Spanish,—which is really the mother tongue of El +Toro—to trail his visitor. Out in the hall I met my dear friend, Don +Nicolás Sandoval, the sheriff of San Marcos County, and delegated the +job to him. Don Nicolás trailed this stranger to the First National +Bank of El Toro and observed him in conference with the vice-president; +from the First National Bank of El Toro Don Nicolás shadowed his man to +the office of the president of the South Coast Power Corporation, in +Los Angeles. +</P> + +<P> +"We immediately opened negotiations with the Central California Power +Company and were received with open arms. But, strange to relate, we +heard no more from the South Coast Power Corporation. Very strange, +indeed, in view of the fact that my attorney had assured their +representative of my very great desire to discuss the deal if and when +an offer should be made me." +</P> + +<P> +John Parker was smiling broadly. "Hot, red hot, son," he assured +Farrel. "Good nose for a long, cold trail." +</P> + +<P> +"I decided to smoke you out, so arbitrarily I terminated negotiations +with the Central California Power Company. It required all of my own +courage and some of Bill Conway's to do it, but—we did it. Within +three days our Los Angeles friend again arrived in El Toro and +submitted an offer higher than the one made us by the Central +California Power Company. So then I decided to shadow you, the +president of the South Coast Power Corporation, and the president of +the Central California Power Company. On the fifteenth day of October, +at eight o'clock, p.m., all three of you met in the office of your +attorney in El Toro, and when this was reported to me, I sat down and +did some thinking, with the following result: +</P> + +<P> +"The backing so mysteriously given Bill Conway had you worried. You +abandoned all thought of securing the ranch by foreclosure, and my +careless, carefree, indifferent attitude confirmed you in this. Who, +but one quite certain of his position, would waste his time watching a +race-horse trained? I knew then that news of my overtures to the +Central California people were immediately reported to the South Coast +people. Evidently you had a spy on the Central California payroll, or +else you and your associates controlled both companies. This last +hypothesis seemed reasonable, in view of the South Coast Power +Corporation's indifference when it seemed that I might do business with +the Central California people, and the sudden revival of the South +Coast interest when it appeared that negotiations with the Central +people were terminated. But after that meeting on the fifteenth of +October, my attorney couldn't get a rise out of either corporation, so +I concluded that one had swallowed the other, or you had agreed to form +a separate corporation to develop and handle the Agua Caliente plant, +if and when, no matter how, the ranch should come into your possession. +I was so certain you and your fellow-conspirators had concluded to +stand pat and await events that I haven't been sleeping very well ever +since, although not once did I abandon my confident pose. +</P> + +<P> +"My position was very trying. Even with the dam completed, your power +in financial circles might be such that you could block a new loan or a +sale of the property, although the completion, of the dam would add a +value of millions to the property and make it a very attractive +investment to a great many people. I felt that I could save myself if +I had time, but I might not have time before the redemption period +should expire. I'd have to lift that mortgage before I could smoke you +three foxes out of your hole and force you to reopen negotiations. +Well, the only chance I had for accomplishing that was a long +one—Panchito, backed by every dollar I could spare, in the +Thanksgiving Handicap. I took that chance. I won. Tag! You're It." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, you've won, Miguel. Personally, it hurt me cruelly to do the +things I did, but I was irrevocably tied up with the others. I +hoped—I almost prayed—that the unknown who was financing Bill Conway, +in order to render your property valuable and of quick sale, to save +your equity, might also give you a loan and enable you to eliminate me. +Then my companions in iniquity would be forced to abandon their waiting +game and deal with you. You are right, Miguel. That waiting game +might have been fatal to you." +</P> + +<P> +"It <I>would</I> have been fatal to me, sir." +</P> + +<P> +"Wouldn't Conway's friend come to your rescue?" +</P> + +<P> +"I am not informed as to the financial resources of Bill Conway's +friend and, officially, I am not supposed to be aware of that person's +identity. Conway refused to inform me. I feel assured, however, that +if it were at all possible for this person to save me, I would have +been saved. However, even to save my ranch, I could not afford to +suggest or request such action." +</P> + +<P> +"Why?" +</P> + +<P> +"Matter of pride. It would have meant the violation of my code in such +matters." +</P> + +<P> +"Ah, I apprehend. A woman, eh? That dashing Sepulvida girl?" +</P> + +<P> +"Her mother would have saved me—for old sake's sake, but—I would have +been expected to secure her investment with collateral in the shape of +a six-dollar wedding ring." +</P> + +<P> +"So the old lady wanted you for a son-in-law, eh? Smart woman. She +has a long, sagacious nose. So she proceeded, unknown to you, to +finance old Conway, eh?" +</P> + +<P> +"No, she did not. Another lady did." +</P> + +<P> +"What a devil you are with the women! Marvelous—for one who doesn't +pay the slightest attention to any of them. May I ask if you are going +to—ah—marry the other lady? +</P> + +<P> +"Well, it would never have occurred to me to propose to her before +Panchito reached the wire first, but now that I am my own man again and +able to match her, dollar for dollar, it may be that I shall consider +an alliance, provided the lady is gracious enough to regard me with +favor." +</P> + +<P> +"I wish you luck," John Parker replied, coldly. "Let us join the +ladies." +</P> + +<P> +Three days later, in El Toro, Don Mike and his attorney met in +conference with John Parker and his associates in the office of the +latter's attorney and completed the sale of the Agua Caliente property +to a corporation formed by a merger of the Central California Power +Company and the South Coast Power Corporation. A release of mortgage +was handed Miguel Farrel as part payment, the remainder being in bonds +of the South Coast Power Corporation, to the extent of two million +dollars. In return, Farrel delivered a deed to the Agua Caliente +property and right of way and a dismissal, by Bill Conway, of his suit +for damages against John Parker, in return for which John Parker +presented Farrel an agreement to reimburse Bill Conway of all moneys +expended by him and permit him to complete the original contract for +the dam. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, that straightens out our muchly involved affairs," John Parker +declared. "Farrel, you've gotten back your ranch, with the exception +of the Agua Caliente Basin, which wasn't worth a hoot to you anyway, +you have two million dollars in good sound bonds and all the money you +won on Panchito. By the way, if I may be pardoned for my curiosity, +how much money did you actually win that day?" +</P> + +<P> +Don Mike smiled, reread his release of mortgage, gathered up his bundle +of bonds, backed to the door, opened it and stood there, paused for +night. +</P> + +<P> +"Gentlemen," he declared, "I give you my word of honor—no, I'll give +you a Spaniard's oath—I swear, by the virtue of my dead mother and the +honor of my dead father, I did not bet one single <I>centavo</I> on Panchito +for myself, although I did negotiate bets for Brother Anthony, Father +Dominic, and my servants, Pablo and Carolina. Racing horses and +betting on horse-racing has proved very disastrous to the +Noriaga-Farrel tribe, and the habit ceased with the last survivor of +our dynasty. I'm not such a fool, Señor Parker, as to risk my pride +and my position and my sole hope of a poor but respectable future by +betting the pitiful remnant of my fortune on a horse-race. No, sir, +not if Panchito had been entered against a field of mules. <I>Adios, +señores</I>!" +</P> + +<P> +"In the poetical language of your wily Latin ancestors," John Parker +yelled after him, "<I>Adios</I>! Go with God!" He turned to his amazed +associates. "How would you old penny-pinchers and porch-climbers like +to have a broth of a boy like that fellow for a son-in-law?" he +demanded. +</P> + +<P> +"Alas! My only daughter has already made me a grandfather," sighed the +president of the Central California Power Company. +</P> + +<P> +"Let's make him president of the merger," the president of the South +Coast Power Corporation suggested. "He ought to make good. He held us +up with a gun that wasn't loaded. Whew-w-w! Boys! Whatever happens, +let us keep this a secret, Parker." +</P> + +<P> +"Secret your grandmother! I'm going to tell the world. We deserve it. +Moreover, that fine lad is going to marry my daughter; she's the genius +who double-crossed her own father and got behind Bill Conway. God +bless her. God bless him. Nobody can throttle my pride in that boy +and his achievements. You two tried to mangle him and you forced me to +play your game. While he was earning the medal of honor from Congress, +I sat around planning to parcel out his ranch to a passel of Japs. +I'll never be done with hating myself." +</P> + +<P> +That night at the <I>hacienda</I>, Don Mike, taking advantage of Kay's +momentary absence, drew Mr. and Mrs. Parker aside. +</P> + +<P> +"I have the honor to ask you both for permission to seek your +daughter's hand in marriage," he announced with that charming, +old-fashioned Castilian courtliness which never failed to impress Mrs. +Parker. Without an instant's hesitation she lifted her handsome face +and kissed him. +</P> + +<P> +"I move we make it unanimous," Parker suggested, and gripped Don Mike's +hand. +</P> + +<P> +"Fine," Don Mike cried happily. He was no longer the least bit +Castilian; he was all Gaelic-American. "Please clear out and let me +have air," he pleaded, and fled from the room. In the garden he met +Kay, and without an instant's hesitation took her by the arm and led +her over to the sweet lime tree. +</P> + +<P> +"Kay," he began, "on such a moonlit night as this, on this same spot, +my father asked my mother to marry him. Kay, dear, I love you. I +always shall, I have never been in love before and I shall never be in +love again. There's just enough Celt in me to make me a one-girl man, +and since that day on the train when you cut my roast beef because my +hand was crippled, you've been the one girl in the world for me. Until +to-day, however, I did not have the right to tell you this and to ask +you, as I now do, if you love me enough to marry me; if you think you +could manage to live with me here most of the time—after I've restored +the old place somewhat. Will you marry me, Kay—ah, you will, you +will!" +</P> + +<P> +She was in his arms, her flower face upturned to his for his first kiss. +</P> + +<P> +They were married in the quaint, old-world chapel of the now restored +Mission de la Madre Dolorosa by Father Dominic, and in accordance with +ancient custom, revived for the last time, the master of Palomar gave +his long-delayed <I>fiesta</I> and barbecue, and the rich and the poor, +honest men and wastrels, the <I>gente</I> and the <I>peons</I> of San Marcos +County came to dance at his wedding. +</P> + +<P> +Their wedding night Don Mike and his bride spent, unattended save for +Pablo and Carolina, in the home of his ancestors. It was still +daylight when they found themselves speeding the last departing wedding +guest; hand in hand they seated themselves on the old bench under the +catalpa tree and gazed down into the valley. There fell between them +the old sweet silence that comes when hearts are too filled with +happiness to find expression in words. From the Mission de la Madre +Dolorosa there floated up to them the mellow music of the Angelus; the +hills far to the west were still alight on their crests, although the +shadows were long in the valley, and Don Mike, gazing down on his +kingdom regained, felt his heart filled to overflowing. +</P> + +<P> +His wife interrupted his meditations. He was to learn later that this +is a habit of all wives. +</P> + +<P> +"Miguel, dear, what are you thinking about?" +</P> + +<P> +"I cannot take time to tell you now, Kay, because my thoughts, if +transmuted into print, would fill a book. Mostly, however, I have been +thinking how happy and fortunate I am, and how much I love you and +that—yonder. And when I look at it I am reminded that but for you it +would not be mine. Mine? I loathe the word. From this day +forward—ours! I have had the ranch homesteaded, little wife. It +belongs to us both now. I owed you so much that I could never repay in +cash—and I couldn't speak about it until I had the right—and now that +Bill Conway has taken up all of his promissory notes to you, and his +suit against your father has been dismissed and we've all smoked the +pipe of peace, I've come to the conclusion that I cannot keep a secret +any longer. Oh, my dear, my dear, you loved me so you wouldn't let +them hurt me, would you?" +</P> + +<P> +She was holding his hand in both of hers and she bent now and kissed +the old red scar in the old tender, adoring way; but said nothing. So +he was moved to query: +</P> + +<P> +"And you, little wife—what are you thinking of now?" +</P> + +<P> +"I was thinking, my husband, of the words of Ruth: entreat me not to +leave thee, and to return from following after thee: for whither thou +goest I will go; and where thou lodgest I will lodge; thy people shall +be my people and thy God my God. Where thou diest will I die, and +there will I be buried; the Lord do so to me, and more also, if aught +but death part thee and me.'" +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR><BR> + +<hr class="full" noshade> +<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE PRIDE OF PALOMAR***</p> +<p>******* This file should be named 16674-h.txt or 16674-h.zip *******</p> +<p>This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:<br /> +<a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/6/6/7/16674">https://www.gutenberg.org/1/6/6/7/16674</a></p> +<p>Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed.</p> + +<p>Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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