ce could not hear the reply of that
young gentleman, but it was evidently not wanting in his usual dark,
enigmatical exaggeration. The man surlily opened the gate.

"All the same," he said, still glancing suspiciously at Hooker, "I don't
see what HE'S got to do with you."

"A great deal," said Clarence, entering the courtyard, and stepping into
the veranda; "HE'S ONE OF MY TENANTS."

"Your WHAT?" said the man, with a coarse laugh of incredulity.

"My tenants," repeated Clarence, glancing around the courtyard
carelessly. Nevertheless, he was relieved to notice that the three
or four Mexicans of the party did not seem to be old retainers of the
rancho. There was no evidence of the internal treachery he had feared.

"Your TENANTS!" echoed the man, with an uneasy glance at the faces of
the others.

"Yes," said Clarence, with business brevity; "and, for the matter of
that, although I have no reason to be particularly proud of it, SO ARE
YOU ALL. You ask my business here. It seems to be the same as yours,--to
hold possession of this house! With this difference, however," he
continued, taking a document from his pocket. "Here is the certificate,
signed by the County Clerk, of the bill of sale of the entire Sisters'
title to ME. It includes the whole two leagues from Fair Plains to
the old boundary line of this rancho, which you forcibly entered this
morning. There is the document; examine it if you like. The only shadow
of a claim you could have to this property you would have to derive from
ME. The only excuse you could have for this act of lawlessness would
be orders from ME. And all that you have done this morning is only the
assertion of MY legal right to this house. If I disavow your act, as I
might, I leave you as helpless as any tramp that was ever kicked from
a doorstep,--as any burglar that was ever collared on the fence by a
constable."

It was the truth. There was no denying the authority of the document,
the facts of the situation, or its ultimate power and significance.
There was consternation, stupefaction, and even a half-humorous
recognition of the absurdity of their position on most of the faces
around him. Incongruous as the scene was, it was made still more
grotesque by the attitude of Jim Hooker. Ruthlessly abandoning the
party of convicted trespassers, he stalked gloomily over to the side
of Clarence, with the air of having been all the time scornfully in
the secret and a mien of wearied victorious