“Hate you? No, indeed! Never! The majority of my best friends are Americans. Instead of hate, I feel great attraction toward the American people. Their sentiments, their ways of thinking suit me, with but few exceptions. I am fond of the Americans. I know that, as a matter of fact, only the very mean and narrow-minded have harsh feelings against my race. The trouble, the misfortune has been that the American people felt perfect indifference towards the conquered few. We were not in sufficient numbers to command attention. We were left to the tender mercies of Congress, and the American nation never gave us a thought after the treaty of peace with Mexico was signed. Probably any other nation would have done the same. Why should I then hate them? No, indeed. But I confess my heart collapses when I think what might be the fate of my family if I am not able to avert the ruin which has overtaken the majority of Californians. We have not been millionaires, but we have never known want. We are all ill prepared for poverty; and yet this long-delayed justice, and the squatters crowding me so relentlessly—” he stopped short, then added: “I am not giving you a cheerful welcome with my gloomy conversation.”
“But I want you to talk to me frankly and give me your views. You have told me much that I had never heard before, and which I am glad to learn. But as for feeling gloomy about the future of the family, I think a plan that Mr. George Mechlin and myself have been forming will make things rather better for the future, and we trust you will approve it.”
“What is the plan?”
CHAPTER XVII.—Doña Josefa at Home.
Don Mariano had only said, “What is the plan?” a very natural and simple inquiry, and yet it threw Clarence into something of a flutter, as it flashed vividly before his mind that the said plan was based entirely upon the fate of the Texas Pacific Railroad, and that as a natural sequence it depended upon the wisdom, the moral sense and patriotism of Congress. If Congress acted right and did its duty as the mentor, guardian and trustee of the people, all would be well. But would it? Would it, indeed? The past promised nothing to the future, judging by the light of Don Mariano's experience. But why should the Texas Pacific not be granted aid? The public treasure had been lavished to help the Central Pacific, a northern road—why should the southern people not be entitled to the same privilege? These thoughts flashed through Clarence's mind before he answered, then he said, somewhat timidly:
“The plan is to establish a bank in San Diego, with Mr. George Mechlin for President, and Don Gabriel for Cashier. The only drawback is, of course, the delay there might be in constructing the Texas Pacific Railroad—the delay in the growth of San Diego. As yet, however, we are hopeful, and the prospect seems good.”
“The prospect is perfectly good, and I would have entire confidence in it, if the fate of the railroad did not depend upon right and just legislation. The Congressmen from the north do not seem to feel all the interest they should in reviving the south. They are angry yet. The fact that they coerced back into the Union the southern people has not appeased them yet, it seems. I wish Tom Scott would build his road without Congressional aid. The success of your banking project must, of course, depend upon the amount of population in San Diego.”
“Undoubtedly. And if there is no railroad, there will be no population. But Mr. Mechlin and myself are ready with our money, and with the least encouraging sign we start our bank. I think we will begin at first with two hundred thousand dollars. Mr. Mechlin says he can subscribe twenty-five or thirty thousand dollars, and I will put the balance in, subscribing thirty thousand for Don Gabriel, twenty-five thousand for Victoriano and twenty-five thousand for Everett, with ninety thousand for myself.”
“You must be prudent in incurring risks.”
“I am. I have more than two hundred thousand that I can put in this bank without troubling my government bonds or my farm.”