, said:--

"What's the matter now?"

"Nothing," said Clarence, striving to keep back the hot tears that rose
in his eyes. "But you were going away without saying 'good-by.' You've
been very kind to me, and--and--I want to thank you!"

A deep flush crossed Flynn's face. Then glancing suspiciously towards
the corridor, he said hurriedly,--

"Did HE send you?"

"No, I came myself. I heard you going."

"All right. Good-by." He leaned forward as if about to take Clarence's
outstretched hand, checked himself suddenly with a grim smile, and
taking from his pocket a gold coin handed it to the boy.

Clarence took it, tossed it with a proud gesture to the waiting peon,
who caught it thankfully, drew back a step from Flynn, and saying, with
white cheeks, "I only wanted to say good-by," dropped his hot eyes to
the ground. But it did not seem to be his own voice that had spoken, nor
his own self that had prompted the act.

There was a quick interchange of glances between the departing guest and
his late host, in which Flynn's eyes flashed with an odd, admiring fire,
but when Clarence raised his head again he was gone. And as the boy
turned back with a broken heart towards the corridor, his cousin laid
his hand upon his shoulder.

"Muy hidalgamente, Clarence," he said pleasantly. "Yes, we shall make
something of you!"

CHAPTER X

Then followed to Clarence three uneventful years. During that interval
he learnt that Jackson Brant, or Don Juan Robinson--for the tie of
kinship was the least factor in their relations to each other, and after
the departure of Flynn was tacitly ignored by both--was more Spanish
than American. An early residence in Lower California, marriage with a
rich Mexican widow, whose dying childless left him sole heir, and some
strange restraining idiosyncrasy of temperament had quite denationalized
him. A bookish recluse, somewhat superfastidious towards his own
countrymen, the more Clarence knew him the more singular appeared
his acquaintance with Flynn; but as he did not exhibit more
communicativeness on this point than upon their own kinship, Clarence
finally concluded that it was due to the dominant character of his
former friend, and thought no more about it. He entered upon the new
life at El Refugio with no disturbing past. Quickly adapting himself to
the lazy freedom of this hacienda existence, he spent the mornings
on horseback ranging the hills among his cousin's cattle, and the
after