That would, at least, prevent a
law-suit."
Parker's face brightened.
"I might do that," he assented. "The title will remain 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.
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