t's a cross sea in the Gulf of California, so the mate says," said
Banks practically; "but I don't see why we" . . .

"The Gulf of California?" repeated the young girl, while a slight shade
of disappointment passed over her bright face; "are we then so near"--

"Not the California you mean, my dear young lady," broke in Senor
Perkins, "but the old peninsula of California, which is still a part of
Mexico. It terminates in Cape St. Lucas, a hundred miles from here, but
it's still a far cry to San Francisco, which is in Upper California. But
I fancy you don't seem as anxious as our friend Mr. Banks to get to your
journey's end," he added, with paternal blandness.

The look of relief which had passed over Miss Keene's truthful face gave
way to one of slight embarrassment.

"It hasn't seemed long," she said hastily; and then added, as if to turn
the conversation, "What is this peninsula? I remember it on our map at
school."

"It's not of much account," interrupted Banks positively. "There ain't a
place on it you ever heard of. It's a kind of wilderness."

"I differ from you," said Senor Perkins gravely. "There are, I have
been told, some old Mexican settlements along the coast, and there is no
reason why the country shouldn't be fruitful. But you may have a chance
to judge for yourself," he continued beamingly. "Since we are not going
into Mazatlan, we may drop in at some of those places for water. It's
all on our way, and we shall save the three days we would have lost
had we touched Mazatlan. That," he added, answering an impatient
interrogation in Banks' eye, "at least, is the captain's idea, I
reckon." He laughed, and went on still gayly,--"But what's the use of
anticipating? Why should we spoil any little surprise that our gallant
captain may have in store for us? I've been trying to convert this
business man to my easy philosophy, Miss Keene, but he is incorrigible;
he is actually lamenting his lost chance of hearing the latest news at
Mazatlan, and getting the latest market quotations, instead of offering
a thanksgiving for another uninterrupted day of freedom in this glorious
air."

With a half humorous extravagance he unloosed his already loose
necktie, turned his Byron collar still lower, and squared his shoulders
ostentatiously to the sea breeze. Accustomed as his two companions were
to his habitually extravagant speech, it did not at that moment seem
inconsistent with the intoxicating morning air and the e