"Little treasure of the world,"
he cried to the boy, "I am happy that I do not have to cut your
throat," and he lifted Allesandro out of the saddle and pressed him to
his heart. That was the faint strain of Catalonian blood in Pablo.
Up in the grand-stand Carolina, in her great excitement, forgot that
she was Farrel's cook. When he was a baby she had nursed him and she
loved him for that. So she waddled down to him with beaming eyes--and
he patted her cheek.
"Father Dominic," Don Mike called to the old friar, "your Mission
Restoration Fund has been increased ten thousand dollars."
"So?" the gentle old man echoed. "Behold, Miguel, the goodness of God.
He willed that Panchito should save for you from the heathen one little
portion of our dear land; He was pleased to answer my prayers of fifty
years that I be permitted to live until I had restored the Mission of
our Mother of Sorrows." He closed his eyes. "So many long years the
priest," he murmured, "so many long years! And I am base enough to be
happy in worldly pleasures. I am still a little old devil."
Don Mike turned to the stunned book-makers. "For some reason best
known to yourselves," he addressed them in English, bowing graciously,
"you two gentlemen have seen fit to do business with me through this
excellent representative of the civil authority of Tia Juana. We will
dispense with his services, if you have no objection.
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