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The Spaniard spoke to him in a low voice. "These men are the people of Miss Valdés. She drove all night across the mountains to get here sooner when she found you were gone. She offered and paid a reward of one hundred dollars to help find you. Do you not owe something to her?" "I owe one hundred dollars and my thanks, sir. I'll pay them both.
Their lawyers will let them know that mighty early, just as soon as they look the facts up. There ain't any manner of doubt about my legal claim. I guess Miss Valdés knows that already, but I want her to know it good and sure. Then I'll paddle my own canoe. The law's only a bluff to make my hand better. I'm calling for that extra card for the looks of it, but my hand is full up without it"
Thus when they see men approaching in several directions on horseback, they soon become bewildered, and know not which way to run. This greatly facilitates the Indian method of hunting, for they are thus easily driven to a central point, and are encompassed. The guanacos readily take to the water: several times at Port Valdes they were seen swimming from island to island.
Kate Underwood's interest in the fight between the claimants for the Valdés and Moreño grants was not based entirely upon her liking for Dick. He learned this the fourth day of his stay in Santa Fé. "Do you know that you were followed to the hotel last night, Mr. Gordon?" she asked him, as soon as he arrived at the State House. His eyes met hers instantly. "Was I? How do you know?"
No one can really think that the "literary elect," who are said to have joined the "unthinking multitude" in clamoring about the book counters for the romances of no-man's land, take the same kind of pleasure in them as they do in a novel of Tolstoy, Tourguenief, George Eliot, Thackeray, Balzac, Manzoni, Hawthorne, Mr. Henry James, Mr. Thomas Hardy, Senor Palacio Valdes, or even Walter Scott.
A little farther on, toward the end of June, he was astonished to meet a Spanish brig and schooner exploring the straits. Don Galiano and Don Valdes told him of the Fraser, which he had missed, and how the Straits of Fuca led out to the North Pacific.
The wrinkles of laughter were ironed out of his fat cheeks. He stared at his client in surprise. It took him a moment to voice the dignified protest he felt necessary. "Our title is good in law, Mr. Gordon. I have been over the evidence very carefully. The court decisions all lean our way. Don Bartolomé Valdés, the original grantee, failed to perfect his right of ownership in many ways.
I glanced downwards and descried Valdès precisely where Sally had said he would be. Valdès, what a fool you were! And I hated a fool. I am one of those who can love and hate, who can love and despise, who can love and loathe the same object in the same moment. Then I signalled to Sally to plunge, and my eyes filled with tears.
I'd like to shake her aristocratic little paw and tell her to buck in and win." "She would no doubt be grateful for your sympathy," the young woman answered, flinging a queer little look of irony at him. "But what's the hitch about the Valdés grant? Why is there a doubt of its legality?" She smiled gaily at him. "No person who desires to remain healthy has any doubts in this neighborhood.
But all her life it had been impressed upon her that the will of a Valdés was law to her and her class. "I do not know ... Pablo told me nothing ... but he laughed at me, oh, so cruelly! He asked if I ... had any messages for my Gringo lover." "Is that all?" "All ... except that he would show me what happened to foreign devils who stole my love from him.
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