“Oh, I’m as good as the average American, despite what you say,” retorted the banker, good-naturedly, as he left them.

The master of Palomar gazed after the retreating figure of his guest.  In his glance there was curiosity, pain, and resignation.  He continued to stare at the door through which Parker had disappeared, until roused from his reverie by Kay’s voice.

“The average American doesn’t impress you greatly, does he, Don Mike?”

“Oh, I’m not one of that supercilious breed of Americans which toadies to an alleged European culture by finding fault with his own people,” he hastened to assure her.  “What distresses me is the knowledge that we are a very moral nation, that we have never subjugated weaker peoples, that we have never coveted our neighbor’s goods, that we can outthink and outwork and outgame and outinvent every nation under heaven, and yet haven’t brains enough to do our own thinking in world-affairs.  It is discouraging to contemplate the smug complacency, whether it be due to ignorance or apathy, which permits aliens to reside in our midst and set up agencies for our destruction and their benefit.  If I—­ Why, you’re in riding-costume, aren’t you?”

“You will never be popular with women if you do not mend your ways,” she informed him, with a little grimace of disapproval.  “Do you not know that women loathe non-observing men?”

“So do I. Stodgy devils!  Sooner or later, the fool-killer gets them all.  Please do not judge me to-day, Miss Parker.  Perhaps, after a while, I may be more discerning.  By Jupiter, those very becoming riding-togs will create no end of comment among the natives!”

“You said Panchito was to be mine while I am your guest, Don Mike.”

“I meant it.”

“I do not relish the easy manner in which you risk parting with him.  The idea of betting that wonder-horse against a box of filthy cigars!”

“Oh, I wasn’t risking him,” he retorted, dryly.  “However, before you ride Panchito, I’ll put him through his paces.  He hasn’t been ridden for three or four months, I dare say, and when he feels particularly good, he carries on just a little.”

“If he’s sober-minded, may I ride him to-day?”

“We shall quarrel if you insist upon treating yourself as company.  My home and all I possess are here for your happiness.  If your mother and father do not object—­”

“My father doesn’t bother himself opposing my wishes, and mother—­by the way, you’ve made a perfectly tremendous hit with mother.  She told me I could go riding with you.”

He blushed boyishly at this vote of confidence.  Kay noted the blush, and liked him all the better for it.

“Very well,” he answered.  “We’ll ride down to the mission first.  I must pay my respects to my friends there—­didn’t bother to look in on them last night, you know.  Then we will ride over to the Sepulvida ranch for luncheon.  I want you to know Anita Sepulvida.  She’s a very lovely girl and a good pal of mine.  You’ll like her.”