"I was best at the Mission," the boy replied. "At the Fiestas we always run, and, of the boys, Juan Palos and me—we most always get the prize."
"When do you have the Fiesta?"
"Oh, in October, on the third—the Feast of San Francisco. It is his church, you see. But this year there will not be any, for the people will need to save their money if they must go away to some other place."
"It is too bad that they have to go," said Walter.
"You think it is true, then? there is no hope? What thinks your father?"
"He says they will have to leave. But the government will find them some other place."
"It will be hard," said the boy, "and it is not just. But, if it must be, it must."
"I wish I could see a Fiesta. What do they have?"
"Oh, first Mass and Benediction; and the people are married, and the children get baptized. Afterward they have games, and they dance. Once, for three years the priest did not come, because they would not give up the gambling."
"Do Indians gamble?" asked Walter, in surprise.