“When you secured control of the First National Bank of El Toro, you found that old mortgage carried in its list of assets.  You also discovered that it had been renewed several times, each time for a larger sum, from which you deduced that the prospects for the ultimate payment of the mortgage were nebulous and distant.  Your hypothesis was correct.  The Farrels never did to-day a task that could be deferred until to-morrow.  Well, you went out and looked over the security for that mortgage.  You found it to be ample—­about three to one, as a very conservative appraisal.  You discovered that all of the stockholders in the First National were old friends of my father and extremely reluctant to foreclose on him.  As a newcomer; you preferred not to antagonize your associates by forcing the issue upon them, so you waited until the annual election of stockholders, when you elected your own Board of Directors.  Then this Board of Directors sold you the mortgage, and you promptly foreclosed it.  The shock of this unexpected move was a severe one on my father; the erroneous report of my death killed him, and here you are, where you have every legal right in the world to be.  We were never entitled to pity, never entitled to the half-century of courtesy and consideration we received from the bank.  We met the fate that is bound to overtake impractical dreamers and non-hustlers in this generation.  The Mission Indian disappeared before the onslaught of the earlier Californians, and the old-time Californians have had to take a back seat before the onslaught of the Go-get-’em boys from the Middle West and the East.  Presently they, too, will disappear before the hordes of Japanese that are invading our state.  Perhaps that is progress—­the survival of the fittest. Quien sabe?”

He paused and smoked contemplatively.  Parker cast a sidelong glance of curiosity at him, but said nothing, by his silence giving assent to all that the younger man had said.

“I suppose you wanted the Rancho Palomar,” Miguel Farrel suggested, presently.  “I dare say your purchase of this mortgage was not the mere outgrowth of an altruistic desire to relieve the First National Bank of El Toro of an annoyance and a burden.”

“I think I admire your direct way of speaking, even if I hardly relish it,” Parker answered, good-humoredly.  “Yes; I wanted the ranch.  I realized I could do things with it that nobody else in this county could do or would even think of doing.”

“Perhaps you are right.  For the sake of argument, I will admit that you are right.  Now then, to business.  This ranch is worth a million dollars, and at the close of the exemption period your claim against it will probably amount to approximately three hundred thousand dollars, principal and interest.  If I can induce somebody to loan me three hundred thousand dollars wherewith to redeem this property, I can get the ranch back.”

“Naturally.”