"I suppose you wanted the Rancho Palomar," Miguel Farrel suggested,
presently. "I dare say your purchase of this mortgage was not the mere
outgrowth of an altruistic desire to relieve the First National Bank of
El Toro of an annoyance and a burden."

"I think I admire your direct way of speaking, even if I hardly relish
it," Parker answered, good-humoredly. "Yes; I wanted the ranch. I
realized I could do things with it that nobody else in this county
could do or would even think of doing."

"Perhaps you are right. For the sake of argument, I will admit that
you are right. Now then, to business. This ranch is worth a million
dollars, and at the close of the exemption period your claim against it
will probably amount to approximately three hundred thousand dollars,
principal and interest. If I can induce somebody to loan me three
hundred thousand dollars wherewith to redeem this property, I can get
the ranch back."

"Naturally."

"Not much use getting it back, however, unless I can raise another
hundred thousand to restock it with pure-bred or good-grade Herefords
and purchase modern equipment to operate it." Parker nodded
approvingly. "Otherwise," Farrel continued, "the interest would eat me
alive, and in a few years I'd be back where I started."

"Do you think you can borrow four hundred thousand dollars in San
Marcos County, Mr. Farrel?"