veyed by the sign on a rough boarded shed at the
wayside, that the "Los Gatos Land and Lumber Company" held their office
there.

A cigarette-smoking peon lounged before the door. Yes; Don Diego was
there, but as he had arrived from Santa Clara only last night and was
going to Colonel Ramirez that afternoon, he was engaged. Unless the
business was important--but the cool, determined manner of Grant, even
more than his words, signified that it WAS important, and the servant
led the way to Don Diego's presence.

There certainly was nothing in the appearance of this sylvan proprietor
and newspaper capitalist to justify Grant's suspicion of a surreptitious
foe. A handsome man scarcely older than himself, in spite of a wavy
mass of perfectly white hair which contrasted singularly with his brown
mustache and dark sunburned face. So disguising was the effect of these
contradictions, that he not only looked unlike anybody else, but even
his nationality seemed to be a matter of doubt. Only his eyes, light
blue and intelligent, which had a singular expression of gentleness and
worry, appeared individual to the man. His manner was cultivated and
easy. He motioned his visitor courteously to a chair.

"I was referred to you," said Grant, almost abruptly, "as the person
responsible for a series of slanderous attacks against Mr. Daniel
Harcourt in the 'Clarion,' of which paper I believe you are the
proprietor. I was told that you declined to give the authority for your
action, unless you were forced to by legal proceedings."

Fletcher's sensitive blue eyes rested upon Grant's with an expression
of constrained pain and pity. "I heard of your inquiries, Mr. Grant; you
were making them on behalf of this Mr. Harcourt or Harkutt"--he made the
distinction with intentional deliberation--"with a view, I believe, to
some arbitration. The case was stated to you fairly, I think; I believe
I have nothing to add to it."

"That was your answer to the ambassador of Mr. Harcourt," said Grant,
coldly, "and as such I delivered it to him; but I am here to-day to
speak on my own account."

What could be seen of Mr. Fletcher's lips appeared to curl in an odd
smile. "Indeed, I thought it was--or would be--all in the family."

Grant's face grew more stern, and his gray eyes glittered. "You'll find
my status in this matter so far independent that I don't propose,
like Mr. Harcourt, either to begin a suit or to rest quietly under the
calumny. Briefly,