The Pride of Palomar

  VIII

  The fierce gust of emotion which swept Don Mike Farrel was of briefduration. He was too sane, too courageous to permit his grief tooverwhelm him completely; he had the usual masculine horror of anexhibition of weakness, and although the girl's sweet sympathy andgenuine womanly tenderness had caught him unawares, he was,nevertheless, not insensible of the incongruity of a grown man weepinglike a child on the shoulder of a young woman--and a strange youngwoman at that. With a supreme effort of will, he regained control ofhimself as swiftly as he had lost it, and began fumbling for ahandkerchief.

  "Here," she murmured; "use mine." She reached up and, with her daintywisp of handkerchief, wiped his wet cheeks exactly as if he had been achild.

  He caught the hand that wielded the handkerchief and kissed itgratefully, reverently.

  "God bless your dear, kind heart!" he murmured. "I had thought nobodycould possibly care--that much. So few people--have any interest inthe--unhappiness of others." He essayed a twisted smile. "I'm notusually this weak," he continued, apologetically. "I never knew untilto-night that I could be such a lubberly big baby, but, then, I wasn'tset for this blow. This afternoon, life executed an about face forme--and the dogs got me started after I'd promised myself--" Hechoked again on the last word.

  She patted his shoulder in comradely fashion.

  "Buck up, Don Mike!" she pleaded. "Tears from such men as you aresigns of strength, not weakness. And remember--life has a habit ofobeying commanding men. It may execute another about face for you."

  "I've lost everything that made life livable," he protested.

  "Ah! No, no! You must not say that. Think of that cheerful warriorwho, in defeat, remarked, 'All is lost save honor.'" And she touchedthe pale-blue star-sprinkled ribbon on his left breast.

  He smiled again, the twisted smile.

  "That doesn't amount to a row of pins in civil life." Something ofthat sense of bitter disillusionment, of blasted idealism, which is theimmediate aftermath of war, had crept into his voice. "The only thrillI ever got out of its possession was in the service. My colonel wasnever content merely with returning my salute. He always uncovered tome. That ribbon will have little weight with your father, I fear, whenI ask him to set aside the foreclosure, grant me a new mortgage, andgive me a fighting chance to retain the thing I love." And hisoutflung arm indicated the silent, moonlit valley.

  "Perhaps," she replied, soberly. "He is a businessman. Nevertheless,it might not be a bad idea if you were to defer the crossing of yourbridges until you come to them." She unlatched the gate and swung itopen for him to pass through.

  He hesitated.

  "I didn't intend to enter the house to-night," he explained. "I merelywanted to see Pablo and have a talk with him. My sudden appearance onthe scene might, perhaps, prove very embarrassing to your family."

  "I dare say. But that cannot be helped. Your right of entrance andoccupancy cannot be questioned. Until the period of redemptionexpires, I think nobody will dispute your authority as master here."

  "I had forgotten that phase of the situation. Thank you." He passedthrough the gate and closed it for her. Then he stepped to the side ofthe road, wet his handkerchief in a pool of clean rain-water, andmopped his eyes. "I'll have to abandon the luxury of tears," hedeclared, grimly. "They make one's eyes burn. By the way, I do notknow your name."

  "I am Kay Parker."

  "'Kay' for what?"

  "Kathleen."

  He nodded approvingly.

  "You neglected to leave my dunnage at the mission; Miss Parker."

  "After you told me who you were, I realized you would sleep at theranch to-night, so I kept your things in the car. They are in your oldroom now."

  "Thank you for an additional act of kindness and thoughtfulness." Headjusted his overseas cap, snugged his blouse down over his hips,flipped from it the wet sand deposited there by the paws of thehound-pack, and said, "Let's go."

  Where the avenue debouched into the ranch-yard, Pablo and Carolinaawaited them. The old majordomo was wrapped in aboriginal dignity.His Indian blood bade him greet Don Mike as casually as if the latterhad merely been sojourning in El Toro the past two years, but the faintstrain of Spanish in him dictated a different course as Don Mikestepped briskly up to him with outstretched hand and greeted himaffectionately in Spanish. Off came the weather-stained old sombrero,flung to the ground beside him, as Pablo dropped on his knees, seizedhis master's hand, and bowed his head over it.

  "Don Miguel," he said, "my life is yours."

  "I know it, you blessed old scalawag!" Don Mike replied in English, andruffled the grizzled old head before passing on to the expectantCarolina, who folded him tightly in her arms and wept soundlessly whenhe kissed her leathery cheek. While he was murmuring words of comfortto her, Pablo got up on his feet and recovered his hat.

  "You see," he said to Kay, in a confidential tone, "Don Miguel JoseMaria Federico Noriaga Farrel loves us. Never no woman those boy keessince hees mother die twenty year before. So Carolina have the greathonor like me. Yes!"

  "Oh, but you haven't seen him kiss his sweetheart," Kay bantered theold man--and then blushed, in the guilty knowledge that her badinagehad really been inspired by a sudden desire to learn whether Don Mikehad a sweetheart or not. Pablo promptly and profanely disillusionedher.

  "Those boy, he don' have some sweethearts, mees lady. He's prettyparteecular." He paused a moment and looked her in the face meaningly."Those girls in thees country--pah! Hee's pretty parteecular, thoseboy."

  His childish arrogance and consuming pride in his master stirred thegirl's sense of humor.

  "I think your Don Mike is _too_ particular," she whispered."Personally, I wouldn't marry him on a bet."

  His slightly bloodshot eyes flickered with rage. "You never get achance," he assured her. "Those boy is of the _gente_. An' we don'call heem 'Don Mike' now. Before, yes; but now he is 'Don Miguel,'like hees father. Same, too, like hees gran'father."

  Throughout this colloquy, Carolina had been busy exculpating herselffrom possible blame due to her failure to have prepared for theprodigal the sort of food she knew he preferred.

  Farrel had quite a task pacifying her. At length he succeeded ingently dismissing both servants, and followed Kay toward the patio.

  The girl entered first, and discovered that her family and their guestwere not on the veranda, whereat she turned and gave her hand to Farrel.

  "The butler will bring you some dinner to your room. We breakfast ateight-thirty. Good-night."

  "Thank you," he replied. "I shall be deeper in your debt if you willexplain to your father and mother my apparent lack of courtesy infailing to call upon them this evening."

  He held her hand for a moment. Then he bowed, gracefully and withstudied courtesy, cap in hand, and waited until she had turned to leavehim before he, in turn, betook himself to his room.