The Pride of Palomar

ly-room and saluted his captain, who sat, with his cha

ectly sorted, labeled, and securely crated, to the demobilization office. The type

d the receipts in

He glanced at his wrist-watch. "Fall in the battery and call the roll. By that time, I will have

well

." The men came out of the demobilization-shacks with alacrity and formed within a minute; without command, they "dressed" to the

ro

d heads described

cal center of the formation, made a right-face, walked six

ogies to offer. I gave everybody a square deal, and for the information of some half-dozen Hot-spurs who have vowed to give me the beating of my life the day we should be demobilized, I take pleasure in announcing that I will be the first man to be discharged, that there is a nice clear space between these two demobilization-shacks and the ground is not too hard, that there will be no guards to interfere, and if any

ir sections and reported them present. Far

ing for the capta

ividual replied frantically, "I can't

r; I und

battery, brought them

asked me to wish you light duty, heavy pay, and double rations in civil life. He has asked me to say t

, and the cheers were given with a hearty generosity which even the m

to the door of

obilized), marched to the pay-tables. As they emerged from the paymaster's shack, they scattered singly, in little groups, back to the demobilization-shacks. Presently, bearing straw suitcases, "tin

eave the Presidio. He waited until the captain, having distributed the discharges, came out of the pay-o

in likes it or not, he'll have to say good-by to me. I have attended to everything I can t

ou top cutter of B battery, that last remark of yours would have dissipated i

ll be hanged if I'll be mournful. I'm too

your home,

'm fed up on low temperatures, and, by the holy poker, I want to go home. It isn't much of a home-just a quaint, old, crumbling

ed. Like all regular army officers, he was a very devil of a f

ther a reverence for 'the ashes of my

r, I thought all that sort of thing was confi

Father," Farrel declared, "I'd locate his g

uch against the

atalonian ancestors, on the other hand, while taking their religion seriously, never per

rs? Why, I thought you w

California under command of Don Gaspar de Portola. Don Gaspar was accompanied by Fray Junipero Serra. They carried a

Spanish-Ca

ived at the ranch and refused to go away until my grandmother Noriaga went with him, we were pure-bred Spanish blonds. My grandmother had red hair, br

nsiderably. I should say you

seas cap and ran long f

ould be straight, thick, coarse, and blue-black. You will observe

laughed at h

lean-strain white. But tell me: How muc

l's turn to

d of the name) was Tipperary Irish, and could trace his ancestry back to the fairies-to hear him tell it. But one can never be quite certain how much Spanish there is in an Irishman from the

es your dad still wear a conical-crowned sombrero, bell-sh

'Forties. All hands were drowned, with the exception of my grandfather, who was a very contrary man. He swam ashore and strolled up to the hacienda of the Rancho Palomar, arriving just before luncheon. What with a twenty-mile hike in the sun, he was dry by the time he arrived, and in his uniform, althou

t must have been

Mexican grant was tw

that the estate ha

s with it, and bet it on horse-races, and gave it away for wedding-doweries, and, in general, did th

is principality

alley and rolling grazing-land in California and the hacienda that was built in

tgag

sed at ten per cent. Neither did the Noriagas. You might as w

ou're the hardest-workin

smiled

know I'll not be home six months before that delicious ma?an

in shook

them is not one to be lulled to the ruin that has overtaken practically all of the old native C

has helped tremendously to eradicate an

omething to do with that," the offi

ed scrubs, descendants of the old Mexican breeds, and there is no money in that sort of stock. If I can induce him to turn the ranch over to me, I'll try to raise sufficient money to buy a couple of car-loads of pure-bred Hereford

cattle can you r

elop water for irrigation in the San Gregorio valley, I co

the ran

th plenty of water for irrigation, the valley-land would be worth five hundr

and gives you a free hand, Farrel. I th

also," Farrel r

oing south

to the other's unspoken query. "It's been so foggy since we landed in San Francisco I've had a hard job making my way round the Presidio. But if I take the eight-o'clock train

t your eyes on th

nds with the grape-vines just budding; I want to see some bald-faced cows clinging to the Santa B

and poetical, and you feel the call of kind

yearning to speak Spanish with s

omewhere along the right of way and you are fearful, if you take the night-train, th

shook h

t. Captain, haven't you been visualizing

rooted. I've learned not to build castles in Spain, and I never believe I'm going to get a leav

anticipation of my home-coming than I may get out of the realization. I've planned every d

ptain suggested. "I'll never have one myself, in all prob

ather since landing here. He doesn't know I'm back in Calif

mother,

uld not have informed him of the exact time of my arrival home. Consequently, he'd have had old Carolina, our cook, dishing up nightly fearful quantities of the sort of grub I was raised on. And that would be wasteful. Also, he'd sit under the catalpa t

men, too

es Sespe, it runs south-west for almost twenty miles to the coast, and turns south to El Toro. Nearly everybody enters the San Gregorio

ng at an old picture I've always loved. Tucked away down in the heart of the valley, there is an old ruin of a mission-the Mission de la Madre Dolorosa-the Mother of Sorrows. The

en Junipero Serra planted the cross of Catholicism at San Diego, in 1769. That distant figure will be Brother Flavio, of the Franciscan Order, and the old boy is going to ramp up and down in front of those chi

nt fringing his handsome mouth. He roll

tising 'Hail, The Conquering Hero Comes!' against the day of my home-coming. I wrote father to tell Brother Flavio to cut that out and substitute 'In the Good Old Summertime' if he wanted to m

n his former first sergeant. After eighteen months,

'Angelus'-wha

le smile of compla

e'll want to know how many men I've killed, and I'll tell him two hundred and nineteen. He has a leaning toward odd numbers, as tending more toward exactitude. Right away, he'll go into the chapel and pray for their souls, and while he's at this pious exercise, Father Dominic will dig up a bottle of old wine that's too good for a nut like Brother Anthony, and we'll sit

might spread himself over San Marcos County on Sundays and say two masses. I have a notion that the task of keeping that old car in running order has upset

rives you home, eh?"

nowing this, I am grateful to myself for timing my arrival after the heat of the day. Father Dominic is grateful also. The old man wears thin sandals, a

outside in his flivver and permits the motor to roar, just to let my father know he's there

always dine at seven; so we'll be in time for dinner. But before we go in to dinner, my dad will ring the bell in the compound, and the help will report. Amid loud cries of wonder and delight, I shall be welcomed by a mess of mixed breeds of assorted sexes, and old Pa

be fit to be trusted with his accursed automobile; so he will snort home in the moonlight, and my father will then carefully lock the patio gate with a nine-inch key. Not that anybody ever steals anything in our country, except a cow once in a while-and cows never range in our patio-but just because we're hell-benders for conforming to custom. When I was a boy, Pab

ou say this

oreman. We haven't needed Pablo for a long time, but it doesn't cost much to keep him o

father f

ses them. It can't be he

s Pablo been

, then, he was never paid very much. He was born on the ranch and has never been

n burst ou

Pablo has some us

ery morning. Throughout the remainder of the day, he sits outside the wall and, by following the sun, he manages to remain in the shade. He watches the road

your fathe

nty-e

rides

that would police you, sir. On his seventieth birthday, at

t that father of

ome. Better come in the fall for the quail-shooting." He glanced at his wrist-watch and sighed. "

ptain

orming to custom, also," he added.

ve years old, sixteen hands high, sound as a Liberty Bond, and bred in the purple. He is beautifully reined, game, full of ginger, but gentle and sensible. He'll w

're much too k

ch other-never can happen again. You will add greatly to my happiness if y

n private mount. You love him. He loves you. Doubtle

the captain mounted on an inferior horse. We have many other good horses on the Pa

housand thanks! I'll treasure Panchi

d his hand, and the

eant. Pleasant

Dry camps and q

ion, and saluted. The captain leaped to his feet and returned this salutation of warriors; the door opened and closed, a

idn't know they bred his kind an