ing and extort justice, long-delayed, with any thought
that by so doing he was saving his principality for a stranger. He will
not fight you to a finish for that."

"What a philosopher you're getting to be, my dear!" he parried
ironically. And, after a pause, "Well, I see very clearly that if your
predictions come to pass, I shall be as popular in certain circles as the
proverbial wet dog."

Her roguish eyes appraised him.

"Yes, John; you're totally surrounded now. I suppose, when you realize
the enormity of the odds against you, you'll do the decent thing
and--"

"Renew his mortgage? Not in a million years!" Parker's voice carried a
strident note of finality, of purpose inflexible, and he thumped the
pommel of his saddle thrice in emphasis. He was a man who, although
normally kind and amiable, nevertheless reserved these qualities for use
under conditions not connected with the serious business of profiting by
another's loss. Quite early in life he had learned to say "No." He
preferred to say it kindly and amiably, but none the less forcibly; some
men had known him to say it in a manner singularly reminiscent of the
low, admonitory growl of a fierce old dog.

"But, John dear, why are we accumulating all this wealth? Is not Kay our
sole heir? Is not--"

"Do not threaten me with Kay," he interrupted irritably. "I play my game
according to the time-honored rules of that game. I do not ask for
quarter, and I shall not give it. I'm going to do all in my power to
acquire the Rancho Palomar under that mortgage I hold--and I hope that
young man gives me a bully fight. That will make the operation all the
more interesting.

"My dear, the continuous giving of one more chance to the Farrels has
proved their undoing. They first mortgaged part of the ranch in 1870;
when the mortgage fell due, they executed a new note plus the accrued
interest and mortgaged more of the ranch. Frequently they paid the
interest and twice they paid half the principal, bidding for one more
chance and getting it. And all these years they have lived like feudal
barons on their principal, living for to-day, reckless of to-morrow.
Theirs has been the history of practically all of the old California
families. I am convinced it would be no kindness to Don Miguel to give
him another chance now; his Spanish blood would lull him to ease and
forgetfulness; he would tell himself he would pay the mortgage _manana_.
By giving him another