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"How long are you going to tolerate the presence of this healthy lot of cholo loafers and grafters, Farrel?" he demanded one day. "Have you any idea of what it is costing you to support that gang?" "Yes," Farrel replied. "About ten dollars a day." "You cannot afford that expense." "I know it.
"I think that white man is from the East," Farrel concluded, although why that impression came to him, he would have been at a loss to explain.
I shall know more about our plans after I have talked with Señor Parker." That night, Miguel Farrel did not sleep in the great bed of his ancestors. Instead, he lay beneath his grandmother's silk crazy-quilt and suffered. The shock incident to the discovery of the desperate straits to which he had been reduced had, seemingly, deprived him of the power to think coherently.
But, strange to relate, we heard no more from the South Coast Power Corporation. Very strange, indeed, in view of the fact that my attorney had assured their representative of my very great desire to discuss the deal if and when an offer should be made me." John Parker was smiling broadly. "Hot, red hot, son," he assured Farrel. "Good nose for a long, cold trail."
Each day they attended the races at Tia Juana, and as often as they appeared there they looked long and anxiously for Don Miguel José Federico Noriaga Farrel. But in vain. Three days before Thanksgiving the entries for the Thanksgiving handicap were announced, and when Danny Leighton read them in the morning paper he at once sought his employer.
Miguel Farrel pulled up his pinto on the brow of a hill which, along the Atlantic seaboard, would have received credit for being a mountain, and gazed down into the Agua Caliente basin. Half a mile to his right, the slope dipped into a little saddle and then climbed abruptly to the shoulder of El Palomar, the highest peak in San Marcos County.
Farrel permitted him to complete the drawing of the check, watched the Basque almost trot toward the paying-teller's window, and as swiftly trotted after him. "All everything!" Loustalot panted, and reached over the shoulders of two customers in line ahead of him.
If I had waited to make absolutely certain Farrel was dead, the wait might have cost me fifty thousand dollars. I rented the ranch at fifty cents per acre." "One hundred thousand acres, more or less, for two years, at fifty cents per acre per annum. So, instead of making fifty thousand you've lost that sum," his wife mused aloud. "I've lost one hundred thousand," he corrected.
"By the way, sir," Farrel spoke suddenly, turning to John Parker, "I would like very much to have your advice in the matter of an investment.
Parker flushed. "Can you produce that fifty-thousand-dollar check? I happen to know it has not been cashed." "No, I cannot, Mr. Parker." Kay opened her purse and tossed the check across to her father. "It was drawn in your favor, dad," she informed him; "so I concluded it was your property, and when Mr. Farrel came by it ah, illegally and showed it to me, I retained it." "Good girl! Mr.
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