The Squatter and the Don. María Amparo Ruiz de Burton

will follow our example.”

      “If you have only three thousand head, you can't spare many to us, and it will hardly be worth while to stop planting crops to get a few cows,” said Gasbang.

      “I think I will be able to spare five or six hundred cows. I don't know how many I have left.”

      “We will buy from somebody else, if we want more,” said Darrell. “We won't want many to begin with; it will be something of an experiment for some of us.”

      “For all of us here. Perhaps you understand vaquering; we don't,” said Hancock; all laughed.

      “Then fence your claim and plant grain,” Darrell retorted.

      “I am not so big a fool as to spend money in fences. The ‘no fence’ law is better than all the best fences,” Mathews said.

      “But what if you make more money by following other laws that are more just, more rational?” said the Don.

      “The ‘no fence’ law is rational enough for me,” said Miller.

      “And so say I,” said Mathews.

      “And I,” said Gasbang.

      Hughes nodded approvingly, but he was too much of a hypocrite to commit himself in words.

      “We did not come to discuss the ‘no fence’ law, but only to propose something that will put more money in your pockets than killing dumb beasts,” said Mr. Mechlin.

      “Then propose something practicable,” said Mathews.

      “I think what has been proposed is practicable enough,” Darrell said.

      “Certainly it is,” Mr. Mechlin added.

      “I don't see it,” said Mathews.

      “Nor I, either,” added Gasbang.

      “Nor I, neither,” said Hughes.

      “Well, gentlemen,” said Don Mariano, rising, “I shall leave you now; you know my views, and you perhaps prefer to discuss them, and discuss your own among yourselves, and not in my presence. Take your time, and when you come to a final decision let me know. Perhaps I can advance the money to those of you who do not have it ready to purchase fencing lumber. I shall charge no interest, and give you plenty of time to pay.”

      “I will do that, Señor Alamar,” Clarence said; “if the settlers agree to fence their lands, I will advance the money to them to put up their fences.”

      “Yes, and if our crops fail, we will be in debt to the ears, with a chain around our necks,” Mathews growled.

      “I thought you said that if it were not for my cattle, your crops would not have failed,” said Don Mariano, smiling.

      “I said so, and it is so. But you see, that was before we had the ‘no fence’ law,” answered he, grinning.

      Don Mariano shook hands with Clarence, whom he invited to call at his house—this invitation Clarence accepted with warm thanks—and followed by his sons and his friend Mr. Mechlin, Don Mariano took his leave, bowing to the settlers, who nodded and grinned in return.

      “I suppose you, too, think the ‘no fence’ law iniquitous, as you appear to favor the aristocracy,” said Gasbang to Clarence.

      “It is worse than that, it is stupid. Now it kills the cattle, afterwards it will kill the county,” Clarence answered.

      “Shall we plant no wheat, because the Spaniards want to raise cattle?” Mathews asked.

      “Plant wheat, if you can do so without killing cattle. But do not destroy the larger industry with the smaller. If, as the Don very properly says, this is a grazing county, no legislation can change it. So it would be wiser to make laws to suit the county, and not expect that the county will change its character to suit absurd laws,” Clarence replied.

      CHAPTER VI.—Naughty Dog Milord an Important Factor.

       Table of Contents

      Three large wagons, each drawn by six horses, were hauling the lumber for Mr. Darrell's house, which was already commenced.

      Victoriano, riding across the valley, had to stop to let the heavily loaded wagons pass. This gave Clarence time to overtake him.

      “Good morning,” said he, “I am glad to catch up with you, Don Victoriano. I have been wanting to speak to you.”

      Victoriano bowed, saying, “Will you go to my house?”

      “No, I'd rather not. I am not dressed to be seen by ladies. I would rather speak to you here.”

      “You are going to build a large house, Mr. Darrell?” said Victoriano, turning his horse so as to ride beside Clarence; “judging by the amount of lumber being hauled.”

      “Yes; rather. We are a large family, and require a good deal of room. But before we do any more work I want to speak with your father. I want to ask him—ask him as a favor—and yet, as a business proposition”—he hesitated; he was evidently embarrassed; but Victoriano, not guessing the drift of his words, remained waiting silently, offering no assistance. “Well,” he continued, “I mean this: I don't like this fashion of taking people's lands, and I would like to pay to Señor Alamar for what has been located by us, but at the same time I do not wish my father to know that I have paid for the land, as I am sure he would take my action as a reproach—as a disclaimer of his own action, and I don't wish to hurt his feelings, or seem to be disrespectful or censorious.”

      “I understand, and I think my father will be willing to sell the land. He is at home now. Let us go up to see him.”

      “Had you not better speak to him, and make an appointment for me to see him to-morrow, or some other time? I'd rather not risk being seen by the ladies in this blue flannel shirt and heavy boots. I look too rough—like a smuggler or a squatter, sure.”

      “I can call my father to speak to you outside, so that the ladies need not see you. But if they should, that needn't disturb you. They have too much sense not to know that you would not be working in white kid gloves. Come on. The front veranda is empty. Mother and three of my sisters are at the Mechlin's. Mercedes is the only one at home, and she is too busy with her embroidery in Madam Halier's room to come near you. I'll bring father to the front veranda.”

      Clarence and Victoriano tied their horses by the garden gate and walked to the piazza. The hall door was ajar. Clarence saw no ladies about and felt reassured.

      There were three steps leading from the walk through the garden up to the front veranda. These steps were exactly opposite to the hall door.

      Victoriano took the path to the right, saying: “Go up and sit down. I'll bring my father here.”

      “Do not disturb him if he is taking his siesta.”

      “The siesta hour is past, I'll find him at the office,” said he, going round the corner, leaving Clarence to walk up the front step. As he did so, he heard a tinkling of little bells and rushing of feet, as if somebody was running. Then a laughing voice, the timbre of which was sweetly pleasing, saying:

      “Stop, Milord! you bad dog! Milord! Milord!”

      At the same moment, through the narrow opening of the door, out darted a little white dog, dragging after him a large and much entangled skein of bright-colored silk. Clarence was nearly stepping on the little runaway, when the door was flung open, and a girl rushed out, coming against him before she could check herself. In her effort to do so she turned her foot and staggered forward, but before she realized she was in any one's presence, she felt two strong arms holding her.

      “Oh!” she exclaimed, as a sharp, hot pain darted through her ankle. She saw that the two arms which held her were none of