The Darrell house was now finished, the furniture had arrived, been unpacked and distributed in the rooms, but the house seemed to old Darrell entirely too sumptuous for the plain folks, that his family ought to be. That was a truth.

“Look here, Clarence, haven't you been too extravagant in buying such expensive carpets, such fine furniture? For gracious sake, how big is the bill for all this grandeur?”

“I don't know yet the price of every item, but don't be alarmed, I am sure they would not go beyond the limit I gave Hubert (Hubert made the purchases), and I assure you, it will all be paid with our volunteer crop.”

“Don't be sure of that.”

“O, but I am sure—only not too much so—which is the right way of being sure,” he replied.

Clarence was now a regular caller at the Alamar and the Mechlin houses. He felt that in both places the welcome he received was sincere, for even the silent Gabriel was always ready to talk to him. As for Victoriano, his attachment to Clarence was now an acknowledged and accepted fact,—not rejected by SeÑor Alamar, to judge by appearances,—and certainly fully and sincerely reciprocated by Clarence. Both found great pleasure in each other's society, and saw each other every day.

It was now time for Clarence to go to Alameda to bring down the family. He and Victoriano talked about it walking towards the Alamar house from the Darrells, discussing the probable time of his return.

“Clarence has come to bid us good-by,” said Victoriano, walking into the parlor, followed by Clarence.

“Why! Where is he going?” said Mercedes, rising, dropping the book she was reading.

“Don't be alarmed, he is only going to bring his mother and sisters down,” added Victoriano, maliciously, causing the blood to rush to her forehead.

“Oh!” she exclaimed, sitting down, with a resentful look toward her brother, and a half appealing, half deprecating one to Clarence, who was contemplating her in ecstatic silence.

“I think the Holman girls will be coming about the same time. I was telling Clarence to look after them a little, if convenient, and if they are not sea-sick,” said Victoriano.

“They will require my services more if they are sick,” said Clarence, laughing.

“If you are a good nurse,” Victoriano observed; adding, “Imagine Corina Holman nursed by a strange young gentleman; that would kill her sure.”

“I would try and prevent that,” said Clarence.

“Thank you, for my friends. I do not think they will be very ill; but I am sure it will be pleasant for them to have so good an escort,” said Mercedes.

Clarence promised, therefore, to look after the Misses Holman, and let them know which steamer would be best to take coming to San Diego.

Mercedes said she would write notifying them of this arrangement.

There was a great something in Clarence's mind that he wished to say to Mercedes before leaving, but he had neither courage nor opportunity to say it, so he left, carrying with him the burden of his thoughts untold.

His voyage was accomplished in safety, the steamer arriving at San Francisco at the regular time. Hubert Haverly came to meet him, and together they went to a restaurant for breakfast.

“Give us the most secluded room and the nicest breakfast your establishment can produce, for this gentleman is very particular, and I am very hungry,” said Hubert.

The waiter smiled, showed them to the best room in the house, and retired.

“Now let us talk,” said Hubert, “I am dying to tell you how rich you are, and scold you for not letting me keep your stock longer and making you richer. Why were you so anxious to sell? The stock kept rising steadily. I was a ‘bull’ all the time. There was a slight break once—only once. Some fellows wanted to pull the stock down, and got a few ‘bears’ to work with them. It lowered a little, but only a few of the heavy holders had any fear, and it soon recovered, shooting up higher than ever. I got your order to sell about that time, and did so, but I assure you my heart ached when I did it.”

“I wrote you immediately after that, it was only the first hundred shares I wanted sold.”

“Yes, but that letter I got three days after I had sold all. I almost cried like a girl, with disappointment, when you wrote that I was to send you only $6000. Now, you could have made a whole million with your thousand shares.”

“A whole million?”

“Most assuredly. Look at yesterday's quotations, and the stock is still rising.”

“Truly,” said Clarence, reading the stock report; “the last paper I saw was dated six days ago. But even then ‘Crown Point’ was still very high.”

“And so it was, but it is very disappointing to get one-half of a million when you might as well get a whole million. I shall never cease scolding you for it.”

“Well, I'll bear the scolding patiently, considering that it was to avoid scoldings that I gave you the order to sell.”

“To avoid scolding? How so? From whom?”

“From my father. He is terribly down on mining stocks. He would consider me next to a thief if he thought I bought stocks.”

“That is absurd. You needn't tell him how much money you have. Here is my statement of all I made; my commission and moneys paid for you. I sold your stock at a fraction over $800 per share. Oh, Clarence, why did you make me sell? Look at this. After buying the government bonds as ordered you have left $260,000, when you might have had half a million over.”

“Never mind. I made enough. I'd rather let some one else make the balance than to sell when things begin to tumble down. Did you say $260,000?”

“Yes, $260,000, when it ought to be $400,000 at least.”

Clarence laughed at Hubert's rueful face.

The waiter brought in their breakfast.

“Broiled oysters on toast! Oysters baked in the shell! Broiled chicken. Let us discuss them in preference to stock,” said Clarence.

Having helped his friend and then himself, Hubert said:

“What are you going to do with your $260,000 now since you are not to buy stock?”

“I have not thought about it, but I guess the best thing would be to invest all in government bonds.”

“Which is the same as burying your cash.”

“I'll tell you what I'd like to do. I would like to make a safe investment that would give me about $30,000 a year, and then I could afford to let you gamble with the balance, if there was any balance left,” Clarence said.

“I'll see to-day what government bonds are selling for, and report to you this evening.”

“That can't be, as I am to take the two o'clock boat for Alameda.”

“When will you be back?”

“To-morrow evening if you want me, but if not I shall wait until the family comes down.”

“What a lucky fellow he is,” said Hubert, walking towards the Stock Exchange, after promising Clarence to see him to the boat at two o'clock. “In two years he has made a fortune with a capital of $2000.”

Hubert was right. Clarence had been a lucky investor. With the sum of $2000 bequeathed to him by Mrs. Darrell's Aunt Newton, when he was only five years old, and which sum she ordered should be put at interest until he was twenty-one years of age, Clarence speculated, and now he was worth close on to a million dollars.

Everything was ready for the journey when Clarence arrived at his Alameda home.

“Don't you know that it pulls my heart string to tear you away from this place?” Clarence said, looking towards the nice orchard and field beyond.

“You'll make us cry if you talk like that,” said Mrs. Darrell. “Alice has nearly cried her eyes out already.”

“Never mind, our lease of this place won't be out for two years yet, and we can come back if the other don't suit,” said Clarence encouragingly.

Two days after, the Darrells left Alameda on their way to San Diego, stopping for a couple of days only at San Francisco. On board the steamer Clarence met Mr. Alfred Holman, who had accompanied his daughters and now placed them under Clarence's care—“According to instructions from Miss Mercedes”—Mr. Holman added, making Clarence's blood rush to his head, as it always did whenever that sweetest of all names was mentioned in his presence. “Tell the Alamares I shall be down soon. I am only waiting for Tom Scott to escort me.” So saying, Mr. Holman laughed and hurriedly kissing his daughters, ran down the gang plank.

Clarence lost no time in presenting the Misses Holman to his mother, sisters and brothers, all of whom received them with politeness, though with different degrees of warmth, according to the natural share of affability or that diffidence which half of Darrell's children inherited from him, especially the two eldest daughters. The amiability of Alice and her mother's gentle, winning ways, however, soon dispelled the damp chill that Jane and Lucy's reserve generally managed to throw over strangers, thus before the steamer got under way, all were conversing and laughing like old friends, discussing things in general and people in particular.

“I think you have made a conquest,” said Amelia Holman to Alice. “Or perhaps two, for I saw a little yellow haired man with a very red neck, come this way and look at you. Then a loose jointed fellow who walks as if his feet are too heavy to lift and just drags them, follows, and he too looks at you beseechingly.”

“Mercy! I don't want to be so fascinating as all that might indicate,” said Alice, laughing, and a little man gesticulating, and a big man with shuffling gait and hands in the pockets of his pantaloons, listening wearily, were seen coming.

“I know who they are,” said Clarence. “The little one is married, so Alice can rest her hopes on the big footed one only.”

“Gracious, how very repulsive the small one is,” Corina exclaimed.

“Who are they?” Mrs. Darrell asked when they had turned to go back.

“The large fellow is Dick Mason, brother-in-law of the little red-skinned one, who told me his name is Peter Roper, and he is a lawyer bound for San Diego to practice law there (no matter by what means), he says. He gave me this information himself when I went to check our baggage. He introduced himself and his brother Dick on the strength of his being acquainted with father. He also asked permission to present his wife, to my mother and sisters.”

“Did you give that permission?” asked Jane, sternly.

“I did, of course; but if his skin is not so thick as it is red he will never avail himself of it. I noticed he had been drinking, so I told him that at present my mother and sisters wished to converse alone with the Misses Holman, of whom we are the escort, but that before we reached San Diego I thought there might be an opportunity to present his wife, perhaps.”

“What did he say to that?” Alice asked.

“He grinned and said: ‘Pretty large escort, ain't it? About a dozen people.’ Yes, I said, but the young ladies are very nice, and require a great deal of attention. ‘Do they?’ said he, and his yellow eyes leered, and sticking his tongue to one side of his mouth, made his cheek bulge out; he then raised his shoulders and lifted his elbows, as if he would have flown aloft had his arms been wings.”

“How impertinent and vulgar,” Jane exclaimed.

“He is of the genus hoodlum. A bird aboriginal of the San Francisco sand dunes, resembling the peacock,” said Corina Holman.

“What did you do when he made those grimaces?” Alice asked.

“Nothing. I looked at him as if I expected nothing else, considering that it must be natural to him to act like a monkey. My impassibility rather disconcerted him, as evidently he expected me to consider him very funny, and laugh at his droll antics. He added, ‘Any time will do, as my wife is not over-anxious to make acquaintances generally.’ So saying, he threw back the lappels of his coat, putting his thumbs in the arm-holes of his vest, and strutted off, leaving me to guess whether he was making fun of his wife's exclusiveness or ours. He turned back soon, though, and said, ‘We'll call it square, if you come and take a drink.’ When I declined that also, he went off again, and this time angry in good earnest.”

“I hope he will remain so, and not come near you again,” said Jane.

Vain wish! When the boat stopped at Santa Barbara, Roper took that opportunity to present his wife to Mrs. Darrell on the strength of his acquaintance with her husband. He grinned and suppressed a giggle, thinking it was very funny to claim friendly relations with Darrell, whom he had never seen. It was a matter of perfect indifference to him that Mrs. Darrell would find out his falsehood afterward. All that he wanted now was to become acquainted with the Darrell and Holman ladies. In this he succeeded, and what is more, succeeded according to his principles, in utter disregard of truth or self-respect. He trusted to his inventive genius to explain how he came to imagine he was acquainted with Mr. Darrell.

When the boat arrived at San Diego, Gabriel and Elvira came to the wharf to meet the Misses Holman. They thanked Clarence for the excellent care he had taken of them, and Elvira asked him to present her to his mother and sisters. This was done with pleasure, and he was glad to see that Elvira and Gabriel seemed pleased with his family.

The Holmans would remain in town for a couple of days at a friend's house, after that they would go to the Alamar rancho to make their visit there. Elvira and Gabriel would remain with them to be their escort. Such was Elvira's message home sent with Clarence.

Mr. Darrell came on board to meet his family, but Mr. Peter Roper was too intently occupied with his baggage to renew his acquaintance; in fact, he rather hurried off the boat to avoid him.

The Darrells arrived at the hotel about the same time, but Peter was then particularly engaged making important inquiries from one of the hotel clerks.

He was saying: “So, you think there is no lawyer of any prominence; not one that might be called a leading lawyer?”

“I didn't say that; I only said I don't know of any.”

“Exactly. You hear, though, who has the largest practice?”

“If you call a large practice to get people into trouble by spying about people's business and getting commercial agencies (I believe that is what he calls to spy and pry into people's affairs), then old Hornblower is the leading lawyer, for he leads people into long law suits always, and bleeds them and makes money.”

“That's the man for me,” said Roper, showing his purple gums in a broad grin, and the orange and green of his eyes expanding with feline instincts.

Romeo Hancock had been engaged by Clarence before leaving, to take charge of hauling their effects to the rancho. Romeo, therefore, was there with three large wagons, and two vaqueros to convey Mrs. Darrell's pretty Jersey cows. But Clarence had to see that everything started in good order before he joined his family at the hotel.

“I brought the Concord wagon for the women folks and the light spring wagon for the boys and Tisha,” said Mr. Darrell. “The Concord holds six people well, and at a pinch, eight. The light wagon the same; so you don't have to have any extra conveyances.”

“No, father, I have not hired any,” Clarence replied, and exchanging a look with his brothers, said that everything was ready to start, and all walked down stairs.

In front of the ladies' entrance was a very handsome carriage which Mrs. Darrell and her daughters had admired very much on board the steamer; next to it was a pretty phÆton which they also had admired, and behind the phÆton was Mr. Darrell's Concord. He frowned and said:

“There was no use in hiring those carriages, Clarence.”

“Count noses, father,” said Clarence, going about busily carrying parcels to the carriages assisted by his brothers, allowing no time for discussion—“Let us see. Mother and father in the back seat; Jane and Lucy in the front, Clementina with Everett, the driver. In the phÆton I will take Alice, her lap dog and our two satchels, and last but not least, Webster will take ‘the Concord’ with Willie in the front seat and Tisha in the back in state, with the cockatoos and canaries and parcels,” said Clarence, patting Tisha on the back.

All laughed, approving the disposition of forces.

“Are these carriages ours, Clary?” asked Clementine.

“It looks like it,” said Clarence, lifting her to her place, “and you shall see how soon the phÆton distances the big carriage.”