in in Farrel's
name for another year, and I have always believed that half a loaf was
better than none at all. If young Farrel subscribes to the same
sentiments, all may yet go nicely."

"Fifty thousand dollars would be rather a neat sum to save out of the
wreck," she observed, sagely. "He seems quite a reasonable young man."

"I like him," Parker declared. "I like him ever so much."

"So do I, John. He's an old-fashioned gentleman."

"He's a he man--the sort of chap I'd like to see Kay married to some
day."

Mrs. Parker looked searchingly at her husband.

"He told Kay he was half greaser, John. Would you care to have our
little daughter married to that sort of man?"

"How like a woman! You always take the personal viewpoint. I said I'd
like to see Kay married to a he man like Miguel Farrel. And Farrel is
not half greaser. A greaser is, I take it, a sort of mongrel--Indian
and Spanish. Farrel is clean-strain Caucasian, Kate. He's a white
man--inside and out."

"His financial situation renders him impossible, of course."

"Naturally."

"I wish it were otherwise, Johnny. Perhaps, if you were a little easy
with him--if you gave him a chance--"

"Kate, I'd always be afraid of his easy-going Latin blood. If I should
put him on his feet, he would, in all probability, stand still. He
might even walk a little, but I doubt me if he'd ever do a Marathon."

"John, you're wrong," Mrs. Parker affirmed, with conviction. "That
young man will go far. What would you do if Kay should fall in love
with him?"

"I'm sure I do not know, Kate. What would you do?"

"I do not know, John. Nevertheless, it is interesting to contemplate
the situation. If he should win this ranch back from you, he could
have her with my blessing."

"Likewise with mine. That would put him right up in the go-getter
class, which is the class I want to see Kay marry into. But he will
not win back this ranch, Kate."

"How do you know he will not?"

"Because I'm going to do everything in my power to keep him from
redeeming it--and I'm neither a mental nor a financial cripple."

"Where did the potato baron go?" Mrs. Parker queried, suddenly changing
the conversation.

"Down into the valley, I imagine, to look over the land."

"His presence here is not agreeable to Mr. Farrel, John. I think you
might manage to indicate to Mr. Okada that now, Mr. Farrel having
returned so unexpectedly, your land deal must necessarily be delaye