“Shall we sing again to-morrow night, Don Mike?” Kay demanded, eagerly.

Farrel’s glance rested solemnly upon her father’s face.  “Well, if we all feel happy to-morrow night I see no objection,” he answered.  “I fear for your father, Miss Kay.  Have you told him of my plans for depleting his worldly wealth?”

She flushed a little and answered in the affirmative.

“How does the idea strike you, Mr. Parker?”

John Parker grinned—­the superior grin of one who knows his superior strength, “Like a great many principles that are excellent in theory, your plan will not work in practice.”

“No?”

“No.”

For the second time that day Kay saw Don Mike’s face light up with that insouciant boyish smile.

Then he skipped blithely across the garden thrumming the guitar and singing: 

  Mine eyes have seen the glory of the
        coming of the Lord!

At seven o’clock next morning, while Miguel Farrel was shaving, John Parker came to his door, knocked, and without further ado came into the room.

“Farrel,” he began, briskly, “I do not relish your way of doing business.  Where are the spark plugs of my two cars?”

“My dear man, I haven’t taken them, so why do you ask me?  I am not flattered at your blunt hint that I would so far forget my position as host as to steal the spark plugs from my guest’s automobiles.”

“I beg your pardon.  Somebody took them and naturally I jumped to the conclusion that you were the guilty party.”

Don Mike shaved in silence.

“Do you know who removed those spark plugs, Mr. Farrel?”

“Yes, sir, I do.”

“Who did it?”

“Bill Conway.  He came by last night and concluded it would be better to make quite certain that you remained away from El Toro until about nine-thirty o’clock this morning.  It was entirely Bill’s idea.  I did not suggest it to him, directly or indirectly.  He’s old enough to roll his own hoop.  He had a complaint in action drawn up against you last night; it will be filed at nine o’clock this morning and immediately thereafter your bank account and your stock in the First National Bank of El Toro will be attached.  Of course you will file a bond to lift the attachment, but Bill will have your assets where he can levy on them when he gets round to collecting on the judgment which he will secure against you unless you proceed with the contract for that dam.”

“And this is Conway’s work entirely?”

“Yes, sir.”

“It’s clever work.  I’m sorry it wasn’t yours.  May I have the loan of a saddle horse—­Panchito or the gray?”

“Not to ride either of them, breakfastless, twenty-one miles to El Toro in two hours.  They can do it, but not under an impost of a hundred and ninety pounds.  You might ruin both of them—­” he scraped his chin, smiling blandly—­ “and I know you’d about ruin yourself, sir.  The saddle had commenced to get very sore before you had completed eight miles yesterday.”