Nobody in San Marcos County will bid against me, for I can
outbid everybody and acquire the sheep without having to put up a cent
of capital. Oh, my dear, thoughtful, vengeful old dad! Dying, he
assigned that judgment to me and had it recorded. I came across it in
his effects last night.
"What are sheep worth, Don Mike?"
"I haven't the slightest idea, but I should say that by next fall,
those sheep should be worth not less than six dollars a head, including
the wool-clip. They will begin to lamb in February, and by the time
your father dispossesses me a year hence, the increase will amount to
considerable. That flock of sheep should be worth about one hundred
thousand dollars by the time I have to leave the Palomar, and I _know_
I'm going to collect at least fifty thousand dollars in cash in
addition."
He drew from his vest pocket a check for that sum, signed by Andre
Loustalot and drawn in favor of John Parker, Trustee.
"How did you come by that check?" Kay demanded. "It belongs to my
father, so, if you do not mind, Mr. Farrel, I shall retain it and
deliver it to my father." Quite deliberately, she folded the check and
thrust it into her hand-bag. There was a bright spot of color in each
cheek as she faced him, awaiting his explanation. He favored her with
a Latin shrug.
"Your father will not accept the check, Miss Parker. Loustalot came to
the hacienda this morning for the sole purpose of handing him this
check, but your father refused to accept it on the plea that the lease
he had entered into with Loustalot for the grazing-privilege of the
ranch was now null and void.
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