CHAPTER XXII
Dinner that night was singularly free from conversation. Nobodypresent felt inclined to be chatty. John Parker was wondering whatMiguel Farrel's next move would be, and was formulating means tocheckmate it; Kay, knowing what Don Mike's next move would be andknowing further that she was about to checkmate it, was silent througha sense of guilt; Mrs. Parker's eight miles in the saddle thatafternoon had fatigued her to the point of dissipating her buoyantspirits, and Farrel had fallen into a mood of deep abstraction.
"Are we to listen to naught but the champing of food?" Mrs. Parkerinquired presently.
"Hello!" her husband declared. "So you've come up for air, eh, Katie?"
"Oh, I'm feeling far from chatty, John. But the silence is oppressive.Miguel, are you plotting against the whites?"
He looked up with a smiling nod. "I'm making big medicine, Mrs.Parker. So big, in fact," he continued, as he folded his napkin andthrust it carefully into the ring, "that I am going to ask yourpermission to withdraw. I have been very remiss in my social duties.I have been home twenty-four hours and I have passed the Mission de laMadre Dolorosa three times, yet I have not been inside to pay myrespects to my old friends there. I shall be in disgrace if I fail tocall this evening for Father Dominic's blessing. They'll be wonderingwhy I neglect them."
"How do you know they know you're home?" Parker demanded, suspiciously.He was wondering if Don Miguel's excuse to leave the table might havesome connection with Bill Conway and the impending imbroglio.
"Brother Flavio told me so to-night. As we rode down the valley he wasringing the Angelus; and after the Angelus he played on the chimes,'I'm Nearer Home To-day.' May I be excused, Mrs. Parker?"
"By all means, Michael."
"Thank you." He included them all in a courteous nod of farewell.They heard the patio gate close behind him.
"I wish I dared follow him," Parker observed. "I wonder if he reallyis going down to the Mission. I think I'll make certain."
He left the room, went out to the patio gate, opened it slightly andpeered out. His host's tall form, indistinct in the moonlight, wasdisappearing toward the palm-lined avenue, so Parker, satisfied thatDon Mike had embarked upon the three-mile walk to the Mission, returnedto the dining-room.
"Well, Mr. Sherlock Holmes?" Kay queried.
"I think he's headed for the Mission, after all, Kay."
"I never doubted it."
"Why?"
"Because he wouldn't tell a trifling lie to deceive when there was nonecessity for deceiving. His plans are fully matured and he will notact until morning. In that three-mile walk to the Mission he willperfect the details of his plan of attack."
"Then he is planning?--but you said his plans are fully matured. Howdo you know, Kay?"
"He told me all about them as we were riding in this evening." BothParker and his wife raised interrogatory eyebrows. "Indeed!" Mrs.Parker murmured. "So he's honoring you with his confidences already?"
The girl ignored her mother's bantering tones. "No, he didn't tell mein confidence. In fact, his contemplated procedure is so normal andfree from guile that he feels there is no necessity for secrecy. Isuppose he feels that it would be foolish to conceal the trap after themouse has been caught in it."
"Well, little daughter, I haven't been caught--yet. And I'm not amouse, but considerable of an old fox. What's he up to?"
"He's going to sell you his equity in the ranch."
Her father stared hard at her, a puzzled little smile beginning tobreak over his handsome face.
"That sounds interesting," he replied, dryly. "What am I going to payfor it?"
"Half a million dollars."
"Nonsense."
"Perhaps. But you'll have to admit that his reasoning is not sopreposterous as you think." And she went on to explain to Parker everyangle of the situation as Don Mike viewed it.
Both Parker and his wife listened attentively. "Well, John," the goodsoul demanded, when her daughter had finished speaking: "What's wrongwith that prescription?"
"By George, that young man has a head on his shoulders. His reasoningis absolutely flawless. However, I am not going to pay him anyhalf-million dollars. I might, in a pinch, consider paying him halfthat, but--"
"Would a quit-claim deed be worth half a million to you, Dad?"
"As a matter of cold business, it would. Are you quite certain he wasserious?"
"Oh, quite serious."
"He's a disappointment, Kay. I had hoped he would prove to be aworth-while opponent, for certainly he is a most likable young man.However--" He smothered a yawn with his hand, selected a cigarfrom his case, carefully cut off the end and lighted it. "Poor devil,"he murmured, presently, and rose, remarking that he might as well takea turn or two around the farmyard as a first aid to digestion.
Once outside, he walked to the edge of the mesa and gazed down themoon-lit San Gregorio. Half a mile away he saw a moving black spot onthe white ribbon of road. "Confound you," he murmured, "you're goingto get some of my tail feathers, but not quite the handful youanticipate. You cannot stand the acid test, Don Mike, and I'm glad toknow that."