"Who is the stranger with our host?" one dueña asked of another.
"Doubtless some trader in tallow."
"Even the early morning after the baile leaves not the señor free from their intrusion."
The men parted.
CHAPTER XV
SEÑORA VALENTINO MAKES A REPORT
"Cap', if I do admit it, I never saw such a place as this for growin' things. Look at that grass. The finest hay in America could be cut there in way less than a month. Good oat, too, every spear of it. Reckon 'twill pretty much go to waste. Durn shame it is. Wish I had a hundred of them acres back in old Missouri. Whew!"
Early in the morning Brown and his employer had ridden down the hills skirting the eastern rim of Santa Clara valley, and were laboriously making their way through the luxuriant growths of that fertile section.
"I am not sure these acres will not be as valuable one day where they are as they would be in your native section," returned Farquharson.
"Put in your wheat, rye or barley here," continued Brown; "raise your crop. Then where be ye? Nobody round to buy you up and pay you money. We're too durn fur away here, Cap', for the country to be more'n bird ranges—yes, bird ranges, where the blessed little fellers can warble and chatter from daylight to their bedtime."