he was forced to turn away.

"It was SO like dear, good, thoughtful papa," said Susy. "Why, bless
me," in a lower voice, "if that isn't that lying old Jim Hooker standing
there by the gate!"




CHAPTER VIII.


Judge Peyton had bequeathed his entire property unconditionally to his
wife. But his affairs were found to be greatly in disorder, and his
papers in confusion, and although Mrs. Peyton could discover no actual
record of the late transaction with Mr. Brant, which had saved her the
possession of the homestead, it was evident that he had spent large sums
in speculative attempts to maintain the integrity of his estate. That
enormous domain, although perfectly unencumbered, had been nevertheless
unremunerative, partly through the costs of litigation and partly
through the systematic depredations to which its great size and long
line of unprotected boundary had subjected it. It had been invaded
by squatters and "jumpers," who had sown and reaped crops without
discovery; its cattle and wild horses had strayed or been driven beyond
its ill-defined and hopeless limits. Against these difficulties the
widow felt herself unable and unwilling to contend, and with the advice
of her friends and her lawyer, she concluded to sell the estate, except
that portion covered by the Sisters' title, which, with the homestead,
had been reconveyed to her by Clarence. She retired with Susy to the
house in San Francisco, leaving Clarence to occupy and hold the casa,