You're the greatest state of all--"

"Oh dear! You native sons are all alike. Congenital advertisers,
every one."

"Well, isn't it beautiful? Isn't it wonderful?" He was serious now.

"One-half of your state is worthless mountain country--"

"He-country--and beautiful!" he interrupted.

"The other half is desert."

"Ever see the Mojave in the late afternoon from the top of the Tejon
Pass?" he challenged. "The wild, barbaric beauty of it? And with
water it would be a garden-spot."

"Of course your valleys are wonderful."

"_Gracias, senorita_."

"But the bare brown hills in summer-time--and the ghost-rivers of the
South! I do not think they are beautiful."

"They grow on one," he assured her earnestly. "You wait and see. I
wish you could ride over the hills back of Sespe with me this
afternoon, and see the San Gregorio valley in her new spring gown. Ah,
how my heart yearns for the San Gregorio!"

To her amazement, she detected a mistiness in his eyes, and her
generous heart warmed to him.

"How profoundly happy you are!" she commented.

"'Happy'? I should tell a man! I'm as happy as a cock valley-quail
with a large family and no coyotes in sight. Wow! This steak is good."

"Not very, I think. It's tough."

"I have good teeth."

She permitted him to eat in silence for several minutes, and when he
had disposed of the steak, she asked,

"You live in the San Gregorio valley?"

He nodded.

"We have a ranch there also," she volunteered. "Father acquired it
recently."

"From whom did he acquire it?"

"I do not know the man's name, but the ranch is one of those old
Mexican grants. It has a Spanish name. I'll try to remember it." She
knitted her delicate brows. "It's Pal-something or other."

"Is it the Palomares grant?" he suggested.

"I think it is. I know the former owner is dead, and my father
acquired the ranch by foreclosure of mortgage on the estate."

"Then it's the Palomares grant. My father wrote in his last letter
that old man Gonzales had died and that a suit to foreclose the
mortgage had been entered against the estate. The eastern edge of that
grant laps over the lower end of the San Gregorio. Is your father a
banker?"

"He controls the First National Bank of El Toro."

"That settles the identity of the ranch. Gonzales was mortgaged to the
First National." He smiled a trifle foolishly. "You gave me a bad ten
seconds," he explained. "I thought you meant