I was as solemn as an owl, yet inwardly delighted at the turn of affairs. But Father Norquin had nothing to conceal, while delight was wreathed all over his rosy countenance. Again and again he stopped me to make inquiries about Fidel, the new vaquero. That lucky rascal was a good-looking native, a much larger youth than the aspiring Don Blas, and I pictured him to the padre as an Adonis. To the question if he was in the ranch at present, fortune favored me, as Fidel and nearly all the regular vaqueros were cutting timbers in the encinal that day with which to build new corrals at one of the outlying tanks. As he would not return before dark, and I knew the padre was due at Santa Maria that evening, my description of him made Don Blas a mere pigmy in comparison. But we finally reached the house, and on our reëntering the sitting-room, young Travino very courteously arose and stood until Father Norquin should be seated. But the latter faced his parishioner, saying:— “You young simpleton, what did you drag me up here for on a fool’s errand? I was led to believe that our generous host was the instigator of the unfavorable answer to your uncle’s negotiations last summer. Now I have the same answer repeated from the lips of the girl’s parents. Consider the predicament in which you have placed a servant of the Church. Every law of hospitality has been outraged through your imbecility. And to complete my humiliation, I have received only kindness on every hand. The chapel which I have desired for years is now a certainty, thanks to the master and mistress of Las Palomas. What apology can I offer for your”— “Hold on there, Father,” interrupted Uncle Lance. “If you owe this ranch any apology, save your breath for a more important occasion. Don Blas is all right; any suitor who would not be jealous over a girl like Juana is not welcome at Las Palomas. Why, when I was his age I was suspicious of my sweetheart’s own father, and you should make allowance for this young man’s years and impetuosity. Sit down, Father, and let’s have a talk about this chapel—that’s what interests me most right now. You see, within a few days my boys will have all the palisades cut for the new corrals, and then we can turn our attention to getting out the rock for the chapel. We have a quarry of nice soft stone all opened up, and I’ll put a dozen vaqueros to blocking out the rock in a few days. We always have a big stock of _zacahuiste_ grass on hand for thatching _jacals_, plenty of limestone to burn for the lime, sand in abundance, and all we lack is the masons. You’ll have to send them out from the Mission, but I’ll pay them. Oh, I reckon the good Lord loves Las Palomas, for you see He’s placed everything convenient with which to build the chapel.”