"Forty-five minutes, miss," he answered, in the same confidential tone.

Kay sat in the front seat with William, while her father and Okada
occupied the tonneau. Within a few minutes, they were clear of the
town and rolling swiftly across a three-mile-wide mesa. Then they
entered a long, narrow cañon, which they traversed for several miles,
climbed a six-per-cent. grade to the crest of a ridge, rolled down into
another cañon, climbed another ridge, and from the summit gazed down on
the San Gregorio in all the glory of her new April gown. Kay gasped
with the shock of such loveliness, and laid a detaining hand on the
chauffeur's arm. Instantly he stopped the car.

"I always get a kick out of the view from here, miss," he informed her.
"Can you beat it? You can't!"

The girl sat with parted lips.

"This--this is the California he loves," she thought.

She closed her eyes to keep back the tears, and the car rolled gently
down the grade into the valley. From the tonneau she could catch
snatches of the conversation between her father and the potato baron;
they were discussing the agricultural possibilities of the valley, and
she realized, with a little twinge of outrage, that its wonderful
pastoral beauty had been quite lost on them.

As they swept past the mission, Kay deliberately refrained from
ordering William to toss Don Mike's baggage off in front of the old
pile, for she knew now whither the latter was bound. She would save