Magnus was lavishly hospitable. Los Muertos's doors invariably stood
open to all the Derricks' neighbours, and once in so often Magnus had a
few of his intimates to dinner.

As Harran and his father drove along the road toward Annixter's ranch
house, Magnus asked about what had happened during his absence.

He inquired after his wife and the ranch, commenting upon the work on
the irrigating ditch. Harran gave him the news of the past week, Dyke's
discharge, his resolve to raise a crop of hops; Vanamee's return, the
killing of the sheep, and Hooven's petition to remain upon the ranch as
Magnus's tenant. It needed only Harran's recommendation that the German
should remain to have Magnus consent upon the instant. "You know more
about it than I, boy," he said, "and whatever you think is wise shall be
done."

Harran touched the bays with the whip, urging them to their briskest
pace. They were not yet at Annixter's and he was anxious to get back to
the ranch house to supervise the blue-stoning of his seed.

"By the way, Governor," he demanded suddenly, "how is Lyman getting on?"

Lyman, Magnus's eldest son, had never taken kindly toward ranch life. He
resembled his mother more than he did Magnus, and had inherited from her
a distaste for agriculture and a tendency toward a profession. At a time
when Harran was learning the rudiments of farming, Lyman was entering
the State University, and, graduating thence, had spent three years
in the study of law. But later on, traits that were particularly his
father's developed. Politics interested him. He told himself he was
a born politician, was diplomatic, approachable, had a talent for
intrigue, a gift of making friends easily and, most indispensable of
all, a veritable genius for putting influential men under obligations to
himself. Already he had succeeded in gaining for himself two important
offices in the municipal administration of San Francisco--where he
had his home--sheriff's attorney, and, later on, assistant district
attorney. But with these small achievements he was by no means
satisfied. The largeness of his father's character, modified in Lyman
by a counter-influence of selfishness, had produced in him an inordinate
ambition. Where his father during his political career had considered
himself only as an exponent of principles he strove to apply, Lyman saw
but the office, his own personal aggrandisement. He belonged to the new
school, wherein objects were attained n