your daring deeds as emblazoned on their coat-of-arms."

"No danger of that, I guess," laughed Jim, "though they might have a
picture of Jo and me tied to a mule. That was the way old Captain Broom
treated us." The Spaniard joined in the merriment at this unheroic
representation of Jo and Jim.

"Now, Senor Valdez, you have told us a tale of old Spain, tell us
something of new Spain here in California," urged Jo.

"It seems to me that it is now someone else's turn," said the Senor. "I
would not do all the talking. A host should sometimes listen. Perhaps
Senor Darlington will tell us of some of his experiences. They will be
much more stirring than any musty tales of mine." But Jim shook his head
firmly, not to say obstinately.

"I would not think of telling our adventures," he replied. "Perhaps
after we have travelled more, we will have something worth while
relating."

"That's right," said Jo, "we would much rather listen to you, Senor."

The Senor Valdez sipped slowly at his coffee, looking out into the
semi-darkness beyond the verandah, where over the plain below stretched
the gray blanket of the fog-clouds. Then he rolled another cigarette,
lit it and took a few meditative puffs. The Senor now began his next
story at a peculiar angle, and did not commence with the stereotyped
form of "once upon a time," so dear to the days of one's childhood.

"I see you do not take cream in your coffee," he said addressing Jim.

"No, but I like some sugar, not too much."

"It has seemed to me," said the Spaniard, "that the seasoning of coffee
is in a way an indication of character."

"Where the party uses milk in his coffee that indicates weakness, does
it not, Senor?" inquired Jim with a sly look at Jo, but the subtle
Spaniard was not to be trapped.

"Not necessarily," he replied, "only mildness."

"And when it is taken straight and black that means a strong character,"
remarked Jo.

"You have stated it," replied the Spaniard.

"But I would like to know how I would be sized up?" questioned Jim, "you
see I use a little sugar."

"My friend," said the Spaniard with playful earnestness, putting his
hand lightly on Jim's knee, "that shows a character of great strength,
tempered with mercy and human kindness. All of which leads one to speak
of a man who was once famous in this part of the country, but not
popular. He always had the reputation for taking a strong liquor in his
coffee, Fernet, if I remember right. His name