The Squatter and the Don. María Amparo Ruiz de Burton

heads of families all came—the male heads, be it understood—as the squatters did not make any pretence to regard female opinion, with any more respect than other men.

      All the benches and chairs that the house contained, with the exception of Mrs. Gasbang's sewing rocker, had been brought to the porch, which was quite roomy and airy.

      At ten minutes before two, all the settlers were there, that is to say, all the old men, with their elder sons.

      Clarence, Romeo, Tom and Jack, sat together in a corner, conversing in low tones, while Gasbang was entertaining his guests with some broad anecdotes, which brought forth peals of laughter.

      At five minutes to two, Señor Alamar, accompanied by Mr. Mechlin, arrived in a buggy; his two sons followed on horseback.

      Clarence had time to look at them leisurely, while they dismounted, and tied their horses to a hitching post.

      “They are gentlemen, no doubt,” observed Clarence.

      “You bet they are,” Romeo coincided. Evidently he admired and liked them.

      “How much the boys look like the old man,” Tom said.

      “They look like Englishmen,” was Clarence's next observation.

      “Yes, particularly Victoriano; he is so light he looks more like a German, I think,” said Romeo.

      “I think Gabriel is very handsome,” Tom said, “only of late he seems always so sad or thoughtful.”

      “That won't do for a man who is to marry soon,” said Romeo. “I think he has always been rather reserved. He has only a cold salutation to give, while Victoriano will be laughing and talking to everybody. But, perhaps, you are right, and he is changed. I think he is less reconciled than the others, to have us, settlers, helping ourselves to what they consider their land. He certainly was far more talkative four or five years ago. I used to work with them in ploughing and harvesting time, and both boys, and the Don, were always very kind to me, and I can't help liking them.”

      “The ladies, though, ain't so affable. They are very proud,” said Tom; “they walk like queens.”

      “They didn't seem proud to me, but I never spoke to them,” said Romeo.

      Gasbang went forward to meet his guests, and all came into the porch.

      “Good afternoon, gentlemen,” said Don Mariano to the settlers, lifting his hat and bowing. His sons and Mr. Mechlin did the same. Clarence arose, and so did the other young men with him, returning their salutation. The elder Darrell, Pittikin and Hughes followed this example; the other settlers nodded only, and remained sitting with their hats on, looking with affected indifference at the trees beyond.

      “I thank you for your courtesy in complying with my request to have this meeting,” he said. Some nodded, others grinned and winked, others smiled silently.

      “Take this chair, Señor, and you, Mr. Mechlin, take this one. They are the best in my establishment,” said Gasbang. “The young gentlemen will find seats somewhere on the benches.”

      Clarence came forward and offered three chairs. Mr. Mechlin took his arm and presented him to the Alamars.

      “I take pleasure in making your acquaintance, and I hope to have the opportunity to thank you for your kind co-operation more appropriately afterward,” said Don Mariano. His sons shook hands with Clarence cordially, and accepted the proffered chairs.

      Don Mariano excused himself for not speaking English more fluently.

      “If you don't understand me I will repeat my words until I make my meaning clear, but I hope you will ask me to repeat them; or, perhaps, some one of these young gentlemen will do me the kindness to be my interpreter,” said he.

      “Romeo talks Spanish; he can interpret for you,” said Victoriano.

      “You talk English better,” Romeo proudly replied, thinking he could tell his wife that the Don had asked him to be his interpreter.

      “Perhaps Mr. Clarence Darrell would do me the favor,” said Don Mariano.

      “You speak very good English, señor. We understand you perfectly. You do not require an interpreter,” Clarence said.

      “That is so; you speak very well,” said Mr. Mechlin.

      Gasbang and Pittikin added: “Certainly, we understand him very well.”

      “Of course we do,” said Darrell and others.

      “You are very kind,” said the Don, smiling, “and I will try to be brief, and not detain you long.”

      “We have all the afternoon,” said Hughes.

      “That's so, we ain't in a hurry,” said several.

      “Only let us out in time to bring the milch cows home, before night comes on,” said old Miller, dryly.

      “Exactly, we want to look after our cows, too,” said the Don, laughing.

      All saw the fine irony of the rejoinder, and laughed heartily. Miller scratched his ear, as if he had felt the retort there, knowing well, that with the exception of Mathews and Gasbang, he had killed and “corraled” more of the Don's cattle than any other settler.

      “Speaking about cows, brings us at once to the object of this meeting,”—Don Mariano, still smiling, went on, saying: “You know that I have lost many, and that it is natural I should wish to save those I have left. To do this, and yet not ask that you give up your claims, I have one or two propositions to make to you. The reason why you have taken up land here is because you want homes. You want to make money. Isn't that the reason? Money! money!”

      “That's it, exactly,” said many voices, and all laughed.

      “Well, I can show you how you may keep your homes and make more money than you can by your present methods, while at the same time, I also save my cattle. That little point, you know, I must keep in view.”

      All laughed again.

      “To fence your fields, you have said, is too expensive, particularly as the rainy seasons are too uncertain to base upon them any calculations for getting crops to pay for fencing. I believe this is what most of you say; is it not?”

      “We could have raised better crops if your cattle hadn't damaged them,” said Mathews.

      “I beg to differ; but supposing that you are right, do you think you could be sure of good crops if you killed all my stock, or if I took them all away to the mountains? No, most assuredly. The rainy season would still be irregular and unreliable, I think. Yes, I may say, I feel sure, it is a mistake to try to make San Diego County a grain-producing county. It is not so, and I feel certain it never will be, to any great extent. This county is, and has been, and will be always, a good grazing county—one of the best counties for cattle-raising on this coast, and the very best for fruit-raising on the face of the earth. God intended it should be. Why, then, not devote your time, your labor and your money to raising vineyards, fruits and cattle, instead of trusting to the uncertain rains to give you grain crops?”

      “It takes a long time to get fruit trees to bearing. What are we to do for a living in the meantime?” asked Miller.

      “Begin raising cattle—that will support you,” the Don replied.

      “Where is the capital to buy cattle with?” Gasbang asked.

      “You don't require any more capital than you already have. I can let each of you have a number of cows to begin with, and give you four or five years' time to pay me. So you see, it will be with the increase of these cattle you will pay, for I shall charge you no interest.”

      “What do you expect us to do in return? To give back to you our homesteads?” asked Hughes.

      “No, sir; I have said, and repeat again, you will retain your homesteads.”

      “And will you stop contesting