id, reflectively. "Yes,
it must have been her. She's Mr. Graham's daughter. A nice girl, too.
That Menocal boy is crazy to marry her, the talk is."

"And is she crazy to marry him?" Lee inquired, amused by this gossip.

"Well, not exactly crazy, I'd say; I don't see how she could be. But
he'll be worth a lot of money some day, and she may overlook
considerable on that account. Menocal's boy has been to college;
besides, the family goes everywhere with white folks. I guess a
Mexican is supposed to be really white, isn't he?"

"Those having pure Spanish blood," the engineer explained. "Nearly all
the ones around here that I've seen have more Indian in them than
anything else, however, with a dash of other races perhaps. From the
glimpse I had of Menocal, I'll venture to say he has Red men among his
ancestors."

"Mexican or Indian or whatever he is, he can squeeze money out of
nothing, like a Jew," Stevenson complained. "Look how much he has made
out of this ranch; look at what he has made out of me! And it's just
that way with everything he holds. The Mexicans all around this
section sell him their stuff cheap and take what he pays, because they
don't know any better and because he's their leader. He has the big
store at Bartolo, which you've seen, and owns the bank there, and has
any number of farms up and down the Pinas River, and runs I don't know
how many bands of sheep; and besides, he elects the county officers,
and fixes the taxes to suit himself, and recommends the water
inspector for this district, and--and--well, what chance has an
ordinary man to get ahead here?"

Lee Bryant let a pause ensue. He rolled a cigarette and struck a light
and carefully got the tobacco to burning.

"You say you're going to let the ranch go back to Menocal," he stated,
abruptly. "You've made up your mind that you won't keep it, anyway.
All right. Now I've a proposition to make you."

Stevenson looked at him with curiosity.

"A proposition? What is it?" he asked.

"It's this: I've a farm of eighty acres in Nebraska that I'll trade
you for it. I could offer you less, but I won't; you have an equity
here of value, and I'm not the kind of man to beat you down to
nothing. If we deal, you shall have something in return for your
interest. This eighty of mine is worth a hundred dollars an
acre--eight thousand; it's mortgaged for five thousand, which leaves
an equity of three thousand; on it are good buildings and it's rented
until