that alarmed Don Juan and frightened her attendants.
"And why was I not told of the presence of this strange Americano? Am I a child, holy St. Anthony! that I am to be kept in ignorance of my duty as the hostess of the Blessed Trinity; or are you, Don Juan, my duenna? A brave caballero—who—I surmise from your description, is the same that protected me from insult at Mass last Sunday, and he is not to 'kiss my hand'? Mother of God! And his name you have forgotten?"
In vain Don Juan protested that the strange caballero had not requested an audience, and that a proper maidenly spirit would have prevented the Donna from appearing, unsought. "Better that I should have been thought forward—and Americanos are of a different habitude, my uncle—than that the Blessed Trinity should have been misrepresented by the guzzling of aguardiente!"
Howbeit, Mr. Hamlin had not found the climate of San Antonio conducive to that strict repose that his physician had recommended, and left it the next day with an accession of feverish energy that was new to him. He had idled away three days of excessive heat at Sacramento, and on the fourth had flown to the mountains, and found himself on the morning of the first cool day at Wingdam.
"Anybody here I know?" he demanded of his faithful henchman, as Pete brought in his clothes, freshly brushed for the morning toilette.
"No, sah!"
"Nor want to, eh?" continued the cynical Jack, leisurely getting out of bed.
Pete reflected. "Dere is two o' dese yar Yeastern tourists—dem folks as is goin' round inspectin' de country—down in de parlor. Jess come over from de Big Trees. I reckon dey's some o' de same party—dem Frisco chaps—Mass Dumphy and de odders has bin onloadin' to. Dey's mighty green, and de boys along de road has been fillin' 'em up. It's jess so much water on de dried apples dat Pete Dumphy's been shovin' into 'em." Jack smiled grimly.
"I reckon you needn't bring up my breakfast, Pete; I'll go down."
The party thus obscurely referred to by Pete were Mr. and Mrs. Raynor, who had been "doing" the Big Trees, under the intelligent guidance of a San Francisco editor who had been deputized by Mr. Dumphy to represent Californian hospitality. They were exceedingly surprised, during breakfast, by the entrance of a pale, handsome, languid gentleman, accurately dressed, whose infinite neatness shamed their own bedraggled appearance, and who, accompanied by his own servant, advanced, and quietly took a seat opposite the tourists and their guide. Mrs. Raynor at once became conscious of some negligence in her toilet, and after a moment's embarrassment excused herself and withdrew. Mr. Raynor, impressed with the appearance of the stranger, telegraphed his curiosity by elbowing the editor, who, however, for some reason best known to himself, failed to respond. Possibly he recognized the presence of the notorious Mr. Jack Hamlin in the dark-eyed stranger, and may have had ample reasons for refraining from voicing the popular reputation of that gentleman before his face, or possibly he may have been inattentive. Howbeit, after Mr. Hamlin's entrance he pretermitted the hymn of California praise, and became reticent and absorbed in his morning paper. Mr. Hamlin waited for the lady to retire, and then, calmly ignoring the presence of any other individual, languidly drew from his pocket a revolver and bowie-knife, and placing them in an easy, habitual manner on either side of his plate, glanced carelessly over the table, and then called Pete to his side.
"Tell them," said Jack, quietly, "that I want some large potatoes; ask them what they mean by putting those little things on the table. Tell them to be quick. Is your rifle loaded?"
"Yes, sah," said Pete promptly, without relaxing a muscle of his serious ebony face.
"Well—take it along with you."
But here the curiosity of Mr. Raynor, who had been just commenting on the really enormous size of the potatoes, got the best of his prudence. Failing to make his companion respond to his repeated elbowings, he leaned over the table toward the languid stranger.
"Excuse me, sir," he said politely, "but did I understand you to say that you thought these potatoes small—that there are really larger ones to be had?"
"It's the first time," returned Jack, gravely, "that I ever was insulted by having a whole potato brought to me. I didn't know it was possible before. Perhaps in this part of the country the vegetables are poor. I'm a stranger to this section. I take it you are too. But because I am a stranger I don't see why I should be imposed upon."
