A Daughter of the Dons | Page 5

first investigating a proposition submitted
to me. I'm from Missouri."
"Oh, indeed! From St. Louis perhaps. I went to school there when I was
a boy."
Gordon laughed. "I was speaking in metaphor, Don Manuel. What I
mean is that I'll have to be shown. No pig-in-a-poke business for me."
"Exactly. Most precisely. Have I not traveled from New Mexico up this
steep roof of the continent merely to explain how matters stand?
Valencia Valdés is the true and rightful heiress of the valley. She is
everywhere so recognize' and accept' by the peons."
The miner's indolent eye rested casually upon his guest. "Married?"
"I have not that felicitation," replied the Spaniard.
"It was the lady I meant."
"Pardon. No man has yet been so fortunate to win the señorita"
"I reckon it's not for want of trying, since the heiress is so beautiful.
There's always plenty of willing lads to take over the job of prince
regent under such circumstances."
The spine of the New Mexican stiffened ever so slightly. "Señorita
Valdés is princess of the Rio Chama valley. Her dependents understan'
she is of a differen' caste, a descendant of the great and renowned Don
Alvaro of Castile."
"Don't think I know the gentleman. Who was he?" asked Gordon
genially, offering his guest a cigar.

Pesquiera threw up his neat little hands in despair. "But of a certainty
Mr. Gordon has read of Don Alvaro de Valdés y Castillo, lord of
demesnes without number, conqueror of the Moors and of the fierce
island English who then infested Spain in swarms. His retinue was as
that of a king. At his many manors fed daily thirty thousand men at
arms. In all Europe no knight so brave, so chivalrous, so skillful with
lance and sword. To the nobles his word was law. Young men
worshiped him, the old admired, the poor blessed. The queen, it is said,
love' him madly. She was of exceeding beauty, but Don Alvaro
remember his vows of knighthood and turn his back upon madness.
Then the king, jealous for that his great noble was better, braver and
more popular than he, send for de Valdés to come to court."
"I reckon Don Alvaro ought to have been sick a-bed that day and
unable to make the journey," suggested Dick.
"So say his wife and his men, but Don Alvaro scorn to believe his king
a traitor. He kiss his wife and babies good-bye, ride into the trap
prepare' for him, and die like a soldier. God rest his valiant soul."
"Some man. I'd like to have met him," Gordon commented.
"Señorita Valencia is of the same blood, of the same fine courage. She,
too, is the idol of her people. Will Mr. Gordon, who is himself of the
brave heart, make trouble for an unprotected child without father or
mother?"
"Unprotected isn't quite the word so long as Don Manuel Pesquiera is
her friend," the Coloradoan answered with a smile.
The dark young man flushed, but his eyes met those of Dick steadily.
"You are right, sir. I stand between her and trouble if I can."
"Good. Glad you do."
"So I make you an offer. I ask you to relinquish your shadowy claim to
the illegal Moreño grant."

"Well, I can't tell you offhand just what I'll do, Don Manuel. Make your
proposition to me in writing, and one month from to-day I'll let you
know whether it's yes or no."
"But the señorita wants to make improvements--to build, to fence.
Delay is a hardship. Let us say a thousand dollars and make an end."
"Not if the court knows itself. You say she's young. A month's wait
won't hurt her any. I want to look into it. Maybe you're offering me too
much. A fifth of a cent an acre is a mighty high price for land. I don't
want any fairest daughter of Spain to rob herself for me, you know," he
grinned.
"I exceed my instructions. I offer two thousand, Mr. Gordon."
"If you said two hundred thousand, I'd still say no till I had looked it up.
I'm not doing business to-day at any price, thank you."
"You are perhaps of an impression that this land is valuable. On the
contrary, I offer an assurance. And our need of your shadowy
claim----"
"I ain't burdened with impressions, except one, that I don't care to
dispose of my ghost-title. We'll talk business a month from to-day, if
you like. No sooner. Have a smoke, Don Manuel?"
Pesquiera declined the proffered cigar with an impatient gesture. He
rose, reclaimed his hat and cane, and clicked his heels together in a stiff
bow.
He was a slight, dark, graceful man, with small, neat hands and feet,
trimly gloved and shod. He had a small