papers and
money were sewn in an oilskin belt and his father's name was well known
in California. Moreover, there never was a more likable youth. His
illness interested all the matrons and maids of the Presidio in his
fate; when he recovered, his good dancing and unselfishness gave him a
permanent place in the regard of the women, while his entire absence of
beauty, and his ability to hold his own in the mess room, established
his position with the men.

In due course word of his plight reached Boston, and a ship was
immediately despatched, not only to bring the castaway home, but with
the fine wardrobe necessary to a young gentleman of his station. But
the same ship brought word of his father's death--his mother had gone
long since--and as there were brothers enamored of the business he
hated, he decided to remain in the country that had won his heart and
given him health. For some time there was demur on the part of the
authorities; Spain welcomed no foreigners in her colonies. But Sturgis
swore a mighty oath that he would never despatch a letter uninspected
by the Commandante, that he would make no excursions into the heart of
the country, that he would neither engage in traffic nor interfere in
politics. Then having already won the affections of the Governor, he
was permitted to remain, even to rent an acre of land from the Church
in the sheltered Mission valley, and build himself a house. Here he
raised fruit and vegetables for his own hospitable table, chickens and
game cocks. Books and other luxuries came by every ship from Boston;
until for a long interval ships came no more. One of these days, when
the power of the priests had abated, and the jealousy which would keep
all Californians landless but themselves was counterbalanced by a great
increase in population, he meant to have a ranch down in the south
where the sun shone all the year round and he could ride half the day
with his vaqueros after the finest cattle in the country. He should
never marry because he could not marry Concha Arguello, but he could
think of her, see her sometimes; and in a land where a man was neither
frozen in winter nor grilled in summer, where life could be led in the
open, and the tendency was to idle and dream, domestic happiness called
on a feebler note than in less equable climes. In his heart he was
desperately jealous of Concha's favored cavaliers, but it was a
jealousy without hatred, and his kind, earnest, often hu