"My cook, Carolina, is queen of the kitchen, and Spanish cuisine will prevail. When you weary of it, serve notice, and your Japanese cook will be permitted to vary the monotony."
"Great!" Mrs. Parker almost yelled. "Right as a fox!"
"Murray shall serve meals, and———"
Pablo appeared in the door leading to the kitchen and spoke to Farrel in Spanish.
"Pardon, folks. Pablo has a telegram for me. Bring it here, Pablo."
The master of Palomar excused himself to his guests long enough to read the telegram, and then continued the announcement of his platform.
"My old battery commander, to whom I had promised Panchito, wires me that, for his sins, he has been made a major and ordered to the Army of Occupation on the Rhine. Therefore, he cannot use Panchito, and forbids me to express the horse to him. Consequently, Miss Parker, Panchito is almost yours. Consider him your property while you remain my guest."
"You darling Don Miguel Farrel!"
"Exuberant, my dear," her curious mother remarked, dryly, "but, on the whole, the point is well taken." She turned to Farrel. "How about some sort of nag for mother?"
"You may ride my father's horse, if that animal is still on the ranch, Mrs. Parker. He's a beautiful single-footer." He addressed Parker. "We used to have a big gray gelding that you'd enjoy riding, sir. I'll look him up for you after breakfast."