"All's fair in love and war," he quoted, gaily. "I wanted a document
to prove to some banker or pawn-broker that I have an equity in this
ranch and it is worth three hundred and twenty-five thousand dollars,
in the opinion of the astute financier who holds a first mortgage on
it. Really, I think I'd be foolish to give away this evidence," and he
tucked it carefully back in his pocket.
"I wonder," Kay spoke up demurely, "which ancestor from which side of
the family tree put that idea in his head, father?"
Don Mike pretended not to have heard her. He turned kindly to John
Parker and laid a friendly hand upon the latter's arm.
"I think Bill Conway will drift by about ten o'clock or ten-thirty, Mr.
Parker. I know he will not cause you any more inconvenience than he
finds absolutely necessary, sir. He's tricky, but he isn't mean."
Parker did not reply. He did not know whether to laugh or fly into a
rage, to offer Don Mike his hand or his fist. The latter must have
guessed Parker's feelings, for he favored his guests with a Latin shrug
and a deprecatory little smile, begged to be excused and departed for
the barn. A quarter of an hour later Kay saw him and Pablo ride out of
the yard and over the hills toward the west; she observed that Farrel
was riding his father's horse, wherefore she knew that he had left
Panchito behind for her.
Farrel found Don Nicolas Sandoval, the sheriff, by riding straight to a
column of smoke he saw rising from a grove of oaks on a flat hilltop.
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