of the stock. Tomorrow, I shall go in to El Toro, see my father's
attorney, ascertain if father left a will, and, if so, whom he named as
executor. If he died intestate, I shall petition for letters of
administration."

"Come, Kay, dear," Mrs. Parker announced; "heavy business-man stuff! I
can't bear it! Will you take a walk with us, Mr. Okada?"

"Very much pleased," the potato baron replied, and flashed his fine
teeth in a fatuous grin.

Farrel smiled his thanks as the good lady moved off with her convoy.
Parker indicated a chair and proffered a cigar.

"Now then, Mr. Farrel, I am quite at your service."

Miguel Farrel lighted his cigar and thoughtfully tossed the burnt match
into a bed of pansies. Evidently, he was formulating his queries.

"What was the exact sum for which the mortgage on this ranch was
foreclosed, Mr. Parker?"

"Two hundred and eighty-three thousand, nine hundred and forty-one
dollars, and eight cents, Mr. Farrel."

"A sizable wad. Mortgage covered the entire ranch?"

Parker nodded.

"When you secured control of the First National Bank of El Toro, you