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 a hat, and on foot," said Don Abrahan. "Only peones, servants of the so low class, go on foot in this part of California. They will think it strange to see an American brought to this level. In the pueblo the alcalde, I have no doubt, will put you in jail at once."

"I've been told there are some Americans in business at Los Angeles," the sailor said, plainly disturbed by the prospect Don Abrahan had revealed. He looked up almost appealingly as he trotted beside the horseman, who had quickened his gait as if impatient to be on his way.

"There are a few American-born men in business there, Mexican citizens now. The others are such as can drive eight mules to a freight wagon. Can you drive eight mules at one time?"

"No-o," doubtfully, "I don't believe I could."

"You cannot speak Spanish, you have little money, no hat to cover your head. Well, I tell you plainly, there will be no door open to you in the pueblo but the jail. You are an educated man; you have been to college, no doubt?"

"Not much to my credit in my present condition," the sailor said.

"But an educated man suffers more acutely than a peon, whose lot is suffering between the cradle and the tomb. I myself have been in one of your New England colleges. I know the pride of the Yankee heart. I would not go to the pueblo, young man. A wiser course would be to continue on with me to my ranch. There I can employ you, there