over the fence, and with the fan raised to her delicate ear, made
him repeat his question under the soft fire of her fringed eyes.
He did so, but incompletely, and with querulous laziness.

"Lookin'--for--San Jose road--here'bouts."

"The road to San Jose," said Maruja, with gentle slowness, as if
not unwilling to protract the conversation, "is about two miles
from here. It is the high road to the left fronting the plain.
There is another way, if--"

"Don't want it! Mornin'."

He dropped his head suddenly forward, and limped away in the
sunlight.


CHAPTER III


Breakfast, usually a movable feast at La Mision Perdida, had been
prolonged until past midday; the last of the dance guests had
flown, and the home party--with the exception of Captain Carroll,
who had returned to duty at his distant post--were dispersing; some
as riding cavalcades to neighboring points of interest; some to
visit certain notable mansions which the wealth of a rapid
civilization had erected in that fertile valley. One of these in
particular, the work of a breathless millionaire, was famous for
the spontaneity of its growth and the reckless extravagance of its
appointments.