“He did not.  Such men never discuss those things.”

“Well, they raise fighting men in the San Gregorio, at any rate,” her father continued.  “Two Medal-of-Honor men came out of it.  Old Don Miguel Farrel’s boy was awarded one posthumously.  I was in El Toro the day the commanding general of the Western Department came down from San Francisco and pinned the medal on old Don Miguel’s breast.  The old fellow rode in on his son’s horse, and when the little ceremony was over, he mounted and rode back to the ranch alone.  Not a tear, not a quiver.  He looked as regal as the American eagle—­and as proud.  Looking at that old don, one could readily imagine the sort of son he had bred.  The only trouble with the Farrels,” he added, critically, “was that they and work never got acquainted.  If these old Californians would consent to imbibe a few lessons in industry and economy from their Japanese neighbors, their wonderful state would be supporting thirty million people a hundred years from now.”

“I wonder how many of that mythical thirty millions would be Japs?” she queried, innocently.

“That is a problem with which we will not have to concern ourselves, Kay, because we shall not be here.”

“Some day, popsy-wops, that soldier will drop in at our ranch and lock horns with you on the Japanese question.”

“When he does,” Parker replied, good-naturedly, “I shall make a star-spangled monkey out of him.  I’m loaded for these Californians.  I’ve investigated their arguments, and they will not hold water, I tell you.  I’ll knock out the contentions of your unknown knight like tenpins in a bowling-alley.  See if I don’t.”

“He’s nobody’s fool, dad.”

“Quite so.  He knows why young turkeys are hard to raise in the fall?”

She bent upon him a radiant smile of the utmost good humor.

“Score one for the unknown knight,” she bantered.  “That is more than we know.  And turkey was sixty cents a pound last Thanksgiving!  Curious information from our view-point, perhaps, but profitable.”

He chuckled over his salad.

“You’re hopelessly won to the opposition,” he declared.  “Leave your check for me, and I’ll pay it.  And if your unknown knight returns to the observation-car, ask him about those confounded turkeys.”

VI

But the unknown knight had not returned to the observation-car until the long train was sliding into Sespe, and Kay had no time to satisfy her thirst for information anent young turkeys.  With unexpected garrulity, he had introduced himself; with the receipt of this information, she had been rendered speechless, first with surprise, and then with distress as her alert mind swiftly encompassed the pitiful awakening that was coming to this joyous home-comer.  Before she could master her emotions, he was disappearing over the brass rail at the end of the observation-car; even as he waved her a debonair farewell, she caught the look of surprise and puzzlement in his black eyes.  Wherefore, she knew the quick tears had betrayed her.