of rank and office. It is the newer day of gain and greed.

Prospecting miners swarm over Mariposa. The butterflies are driven
from rocky knoll and fragrant bower by powder blasts. The woods
fall under the ringing axe of the squatter. Ignorant of new laws
and strange language; strong only in his rights; weak in years,
devoid of friends, Don Miguel's hope is the sage counsel of Padre
Francisco. The latter trusts to Valois' legal skill.

As adviser, Valois repairs to Lagunitas. Old patents, papers heavy
with antique seal and black with stately Spanish flourish, are conned
over. Lines are examined, witnesses probed, defensive measures
taken.

Maxime sits; catechizes the Don, the anxious Donna Juanita, and
the padre. Wandering by the shores of Lagunitas, Valois notes the
lovely reflection of the sweet-faced Dolores in the crystal waters.
The girl is fair and modest. Francois Ribaut often wonders if the
young man sees the rare beauty of the Spanish maiden. If it would
come to pass!

Over his beads, the padre murmurs, "It may be well. All well in
time."

The cause drags on slowly. After months, the famous case of the
Lagunitas rancho is fought and won.

But before its last coil has dragged out of the halls of justice,
harassed and broken in spirit, Don Miguel closes his eyes upon the
ruin of his race. Born to sorrow, Donna Juanita is a mere shade