Clarence thanked the notary, and drove home as fast as the uneven road permitted. He felt that he must at last disclose to his father all about that land transaction, and feared that he would be angry. His fears, he saw, were only too well founded as soon as he arrived home.

The family were at supper when he drove up to the door. On hearing the sound of wheels, Everett left the table and hastened to meet him. All his brothers and sisters would gladly have done the same, but a look from their mother kept them in their chairs.

In a few words Everett condensed the unfortunate occurrences of the previous day and evening, ending his hurried statement by saying that the entire family hoped that Clarence's influence might appease their father's irritation when nothing else would.

"No; I am sure that if mother has failed, I shall have no effect at all," Clarence said. "But are you sure that there is nothing else to anger him? The fact alone of my having paid for the land, and at my mother's request, would not so infuriate him while in his normal state of mind. There must be some _other_ irritating circumstance."

"None that we know of."

"I am glad he did not strike the Don."

"So am I, though I have a big bump to testify that he struck _me_, and I suppose Tano has another to speak for him."

Clarence told the servant who came to take the horses to the stable to leave them where they were, only throwing a blanket on, as he had driven them very fast. He and Everett then walked into the hall, carrying some small parcels which he (as usual) had brought home-one of those parcels being a beautiful pipe, for which he had paid forty dollars, and a lot of fine tobacco, for his father.

Placing them on the hall table, he said to Everett: "I suppose father would rather throw this tobacco into my eyes than put it in his pipe and smoke it."

Everett laughed at this, thinking it rather a witticism under the circumstances, and was still laughing when both went into the dining-room.

Clarence said good evening to all, kissing his mother as he took his seat beside her. Darrell never lifted his eyes, paying no attention to his son.

"What made you laugh just now, Retty?" Willie asked.

"Something that Clary said," answered Everett.

"Was it anything funny?"

"It must have been; but you needn't hear it."

"But I want to hear it," he insisted.

"It must have been about your father, he is the funny man now-the laughing stock," said Darrell to Willie; then to Clarence: "We have had circus performances. Your father distinguished himself by performing _in_ the tight rope, with Don Gabriel-a very tight rope," he said, making a semi-circular sign around his body with both hands, and nodding his head at Clarence by way of emphasis, or as if he challenged him to contradict his statement.

"Oh, father! I am very sorry," was all that Clarence could answer.

The entire family were almost choking with suppressed laughter, but none dare give vent to it.

"Why don't you laugh-all of you?" asked he, looking around fiercely.

"Because you frighten their laughter away," Mrs. Darrell replied. "They fear to offend you."

"Offend me? _Me?_ And since when such consideration? Since when, I say?"

"Since they were old enough to know you as their father," calmly replied Mrs. Darrell.

"Ah! I am glad to hear it. Well, sir," he said, addressing Clarence again, to the terror of all the family, "I have at last learned that you have been making clandestine bargains with your future father-in-law, placing me in a most ridiculous position, for which I don't thank you."

"I am sorry, father. My intention was most kind," Clarence answered, respectfully, but very calmly.

"You only thought that as I was a fool, you would be my sense-bearer, and act for me-you, the man of brains."

"No, sir. All I thought was, that as you seem to love my mother, you would prefer to give her the kind of home that she desires. I thought that when you came to know all, you would approve of my having obeyed my mother's wishes."

"If you were so sure of my approval, why didn't you tell me the whole thing before?"

"Because I was pledged to my mother not to do so. I was bound to be silent."

"By George!" said Darrell, striking the table with his fist, making all the glasses and cups dance; "and for all that nonsense I have been made a laughing stock, a ridiculous, trusting fool-an ass!"

"No one will think that but yourself," Mrs. Darrell said; "and you will change your mind, I hope."

"And how do you know that?"

"I was supposing that people reason in the way that in all my life I have believed to be correct."

"Yes, what _you_ believe to be correct no one else has any right to think differently."

"Whether they have or not, I shall not interfere."

"No, you only wanted to interfere with me."

"Certainly. As my life is united to yours, I am obliged to try and prevent such of your actions as will make me unhappy."

"An excellent doctrine for wives-for mothers to teach their children-and we see the result now."

Mrs. Darrell was pleased that his attacks seemed directed to herself instead of Clarence, but she felt prematurely relieved, for now he came down upon Clarence. He said:

"Well, sir, since yourself and your mother have bought this land, and since I am an unreclaimed _squatter_, I suppose I had better leave this place, and go back to Alameda again. I suppose I can have that place again?"

"You will not have to lease it, father; you can have it rent free, as long as you live, if you prefer to reside there," Clarence replied.

"How is that?"

"I bought the place, and if you wish you can live in it."

"You? _You_ bought the place! Then, by George! _you_ have managed to coop me up," said Mr. Darrell, drawing down the corners of his mouth and elevating his shoulders deprecatingly, as if he thought Clarence was a voracious land-grabber, who wanted to appropriate to himself all the vacant land in the United States.

"Don't say that, please. The place was for sale, Hubert telegraphed me, and I telegraphed back to buy it."

"I didn't know you were so rich," he answered, sneeringly.

Clarence made no reply.

"Well, I must admit you have cornered me completely; but as I don't want to live on the bounty of my rich son, I must get out of this place."

"You can refund me the price of one hundred and sixty acres, father, if you are too proud to accept that from me, which is little enough, considering your generosity to me all my life. The other two claims, you know, you said would be one for Retty and the other for myself. This house and the orchards are all on your claim."