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Kyne, Peter B. (Peter Bernard), 1880-1957

"The Pride of Palomar"

With
the attrition of time and the elements, it had worn away in spots,
through which the brown adobe bricks showed, like the bones in a
decaying corpse. The main building faced down the valley; from each
end out, an ell extended to form a patio in the rear, while a
seven-foot adobe wall, topped with short tile, connected with the ell
and formed a parallelogram.
"The old ruin doesn't look very impressive from the front, Kay," her
father explained, as he helped her out of the car, "but that wall hides
an old-fashioned garden that will delight you. A porch runs all round
the inside of the house, and every door opens on the patio. That long
adobe barracks over yonder used to house the help. In the old days, a
small army of peons was maintained here. The small adobe house back
there in the trees houses the majordomo--that old rascal, Pablo."
"He is still here, dad?"
"Yes--and as belligerent as old billy-owl. He pretends to look after
the stock. I ordered him off the ranch last week; but do you think
he'd go? Not much. He went inside his shack, sorted out a rifle, came
outside, sat down, and fondled the weapon all day long. Ever since
then he has carried it, mounted or afoot. So I haven't bothered him.
He's a bad old Indian, and when I secure final title to the ranch, I'll
have the sheriff of the county come out and remove him."
"But how does he live, dear?"
"How does any Indian live? He killed a steer last week, jerked half of
it, and sold the other half for some beans and flour.


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