San Diego at that time—in July, 1873—be it remembered, was fresh and rosy with bright hopes, like a healthy child just trying to stand up, with no sickness or ill-usage to sap its vitality and weaken its limbs. Only ten months before Col. Scott had come to say that the Texas Pacific Railroad would be built through the shortest, most practicable route, making San Diego the western terminus of the shortest transcontinental railway. It was true that on the following winter Congress had done nothing further to help the Texas Pacific. But many reasons were given for this singular lack of interest in so important a matter on the part of Congress. Among the many reasons, the true one was not mentioned, hardly suspected; it would have seemed too monstrous to have been believed all at once; incredible if revealed without preparing the mind for its reception. Yes, the mind had to be prepared—slowly educated first. Now it has been. The process began about that time and it has continued up to this day, this very moment in which I write this page. Mr. Huntington's letters have taught us how San Diego was robbed, tricked, and cheated out of its inheritance. We will look at these letters further on.
When the steamer arrived near enough to the wharf for persons to be recognized, Clarence's heart leaped with pleasure, for he saw the well known, tall form of Don Mariano sitting in his buggy leaning back, looking at the approaching steamer. A minute after, he saw Victoriano and Everett standing together near the edge of the wharf ready to receive him.
“Well, Mr. Runaway, welcome back!” Victoriano said, clasping Clarence's hand as soon as he was upon the wharf. He gave the other hand to Everett, who said:
“We will have to lazo you to keep you home.”
“I think we will have to put a yoke on him,” added Victoriano.
“Exactly; only let me select my yokefellow,” Clarence said, laughing.
As Don Mariano intended returning home that day, Clarence proposed that Victoriano should drive with Everett, and he go with Don Mariano, an arrangement which was very satisfactory to all parties. He was very anxious to unburden his mind, and Don Mariano's inquiries about his daughters and their voyage to San Francisco soon gave him the desired opportunity. He told Don Mariano what George had said, and how firmly and sincerely Mercedes wished to abide by her mother's wishes. Don Mariano listened very attentively, then said:
“I had intended suggesting to you the same thing. Gabriel has spoken to me about the matter several times, insisting that all the ladies of our family ought to know that you paid for your land. Since we cannot divest them of the resentment they have towards squatters, let them know the truth. Let them see that Congress, if it does not always follow moral principles, can certainly subvert them most arbitrarily and disastrously. Do you still wish to keep the matter from your father?”
Clarence thought for a moment, then answered:
“Yes, but only for a short time. I suppose we will have to define our position as soon as the appeal is dismissed. Before that comes, I shall explain all to him.”