"Well, John," Mrs. Parker demanded, as the Japanese disappeared, "your
little playmate's quite like a mechanical toy. For heaven's sake,
where did you pal up with him?"
"That's the potato baron of the San Joaquin valley, Kate," he informed
her. "I'm trying to interest him in a colonization scheme for his
countrymen. A thousand Japs in the San Gregorio can raise enough
garden-truck to feed the city of Los Angeles--and they will pay a
whooping price for good land with water on it. So I brought him along
for a preliminary survey of the deal."
"He's very polite, but I imagine he's not very brilliant company," his
wife averred frankly. "When you wired me you were bringing a guest, I
did hope you'd bring some jolly young jackanapes to arouse Kay and me."
She sighed and settled back in her comfortable rocking-chair, while
Kay, guided by a maid, proceeded to her room. A recent job of
calcimining had transformed the room from a dirty grayish, white to a
soft shade of pink; the old-fashioned furniture had been "done over,"
and glowed dully in the fading light. Kay threw open the small
square-hinged window, gazed through the iron bars sunk in the thick
walls, and she found herself looking down the valley, more beautiful
than ever now in the rapidly fading light.
"I'll have to wait outside for him," she thought. "It will be dark
when he gets here."
She washed and changed into a dainty little dinner dress, after which
she went on a tour of exploration of the hacienda.
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