ce in the eyes that
held to his so steadily. She was going to find out the truth, no matter
what he thought.

"Is that all--nothing more than a friend or a relative?"

The miner's boyish laugh rippled out. "You'd ought to have been a
lawyer, Miss Kate. No, that ain't all Don Manuel doesn't make any secret
of it. I don't know why I should. He wants to be prince consort of the
Valdes kingdom."

"Because of ... the estate?"

"Lord, no! He's one man from the ground up, M. Pesquiera is. In spite of
the estates."

"You mean that he ... loves Valencia Valdes?"

"Sure he does. Manuel doesn't care much who gets the kingdom if he gets
the princess."

"Is she so ... pretty?"

Dick stopped to consider this. "Why, yes, I reckon she is pretty, though
I hadn't thought of it before. You see, pretty ain't just the word.
She's a queen. That is, she looks like a queen ought to but don't. Take
her walk for instance: she steps out like as if in another moment she
might fly."

"That doesn't mean anything. It's almost silly," replied the downright
Miss Underwood, not without a tinge of spite.

"It means something to me. I'm trying to give you a picture of her. But
you'd have to see her to understand. When she's around mean and little
things crawl out of your mind. She's on the level and square and fine--a
thoroughbred if there ever was one."

"I believe you're in love with her, too."

The young man found himself blushing. "Now don't get to imagining
foolishness. Miss Valdes hates the ground I walk on. She thinks I'm the
limit, and she hasn't forgotten to tell me so."

"Which, of course, makes you fonder of her," scoffed Miss Underwood.
"Does she hate the ground that Don Manuel walks on?"

"Now you've got me. I go to the foot of the class, because I don't
know."

"But you wish you did," she flung at him, with a swift side glance.

"Guessing again, Miss Kate. I'll sure report you if you waste the
State's time on such foolishness," he threatened gaily.

"Since you're in love with her, why don't you marry Miss Valdes and
consolidate the two claims?" demanded the girl.

Her chin was tilted impudently toward him, but Gordon guessed that there
was an undercurrent of meaning in her audacity.

"What commission do you charge for running your matrimonial bureau?" he
asked innocently.

"The service comes free to infants," she retorted sweetly.

She was called away to attend to other business. An hour later she
passed the desk