“John, don’t be a nut,” his wife implored him.  “We’ll stay here.  Yes, we shall, John.  Mr. Farrel has asked us in good faith.  You weren’t trying to be polite just to put us at our ease, were you?” she demanded, turning to Farrel.

“Certainly not, Mrs. Parker.  Of course, I shall do my level best to acquire the legal right to dispossess you before Mr. Parker acquires a similar right to dispossess me, but, in the interim, I announce an armistice.  All those in favor of the motion will signify by saying ‘Aye.’”

“Aye!” cried Kay, and “Aye!” shrilled her mother.

“No!” roared her husband.

“Excess of sound has no weight with me, Mr. Parker,” their host announced.  “The ‘Ayes’ have it, and it is so ordered.  I will now submit a platform for the approval of the delegates.  Having established myself as host and won recognition as such, the following rules and regulations will govern the convention.”

“Hear!  Hear!” cried Mrs. Parker, and tapped the table with her spoon.

“The rapid ringing of a bell will be the signal for meals.”

“Approved!” cried Kay.

“Second the motion!” shrilled her mother.

“My cook, Carolina, is queen of the kitchen, and Spanish cuisine will prevail.  When you weary of it, serve notice, and your Japanese cook will be permitted to vary the monotony.”

“Great!” Mrs. Parker almost yelled.  “Right as a fox!”

“Murray shall serve meals, and—­”

Pablo appeared in the door leading to the kitchen and spoke to Farrel in Spanish.

“Pardon, folks.  Pablo has a telegram for me.  Bring it here, Pablo.”

The master of Palomar excused himself to his guests long enough to read the telegram, and then continued the announcement of his platform.

“My old battery commander, to whom I had promised Panchito, wires me that, for his sins, he has been made a major and ordered to the Army of Occupation on the Rhine.  Therefore, he cannot use Panchito, and forbids me to express the horse to him.  Consequently, Miss Parker, Panchito is almost yours.  Consider him your property while you remain my guest.”

“You darling Don Miguel Farrel!”

“Exuberant, my dear,” her curious mother remarked, dryly, “but, on the whole, the point is well taken.”  She turned to Farrel.  “How about some sort of nag for mother?”

“You may ride my father’s horse, if that animal is still on the ranch, Mrs. Parker.  He’s a beautiful single-footer.”  He addressed Parker.  “We used to have a big gray gelding that you’d enjoy riding, sir.  I’ll look him up for you after breakfast.”

“Thank you, Mr. Farrel,” Parker replied, flushing slightly, “I’ve been riding him already.”

“Fine!  He needed exercising.  I have a brown mare for Mr. Okada, and you are all invited out to the corral after luncheon to see me bust Panchito’s wild young brother for my own use.”