To the keen delight of the hosts there was a fourth guest at dinner, a man who was stopping at another _hacienda_ and had come in to tea and been cajoled into staying for dinner and the night. He was a personage from Los Angeles, an Easterner who had brought an invalid wife there fifteen years earlier, had watched her miraculous return to pink plump health and become the typical California-convert. He had established a branch of his gigantic business there and himself rolled semiannually from coast to coast in his private car. Honor and Jimsy were a little awed by touching elbows with greatness but he didn't really bother them very much, for they were too entirely absorbed in each other. He seemed, however, considerably interested in them and looked at them and listened to them genially. The Kings were thirstily eager for news of the northern world; books, plays, games, people--they drank up names and dates and details. "We must take a run up to the States this year," said Richard King. "It would be jolly, old dear," said his wife, levelly, her wise eyes on his steady hands. "If the coffee crop runs to it!" "There you have it," he growled. "If the coffee crop is bad we can't afford to go,--and if it's good we can't afford to leave it!" "But we needn't mind when we've house parties like this! My word, Rich'--fancy having four house guests at one and the same blessed time!" She led the way into the long _sala_ for coffee. "Yes,--isn't it great? Drink?" Richard King held up a half filled decanter toward his guest. The personage shook his head. "Not this weather, thanks. That enchanted well of yours does me better. Wonderful water, isn't it?" "Water's all right, but it's a deuce of a nuisance having to carry every drop of it up to the house." "Really? Isn't it piped?" "Ah, but it will be one day, Rich'! I expect the first big coffee crop will go there, rather than in a trip to the States. But it is rather a bother, meanwhile." "But you have no labor question here." "Haven't we though? With old Diaz gone the old order is changed. This bunch I have here now are bad ones," King shook his head. "They may revolute any minute." "Oh, Rich'--not really?" "I daresay they'll lack the energy when it comes to a show-down, Madeline. But this man Villa is a picturesque figure, you know. He appeals to the _peon_ imagination." The guest was interested. "Yes. Isn't it true that there's a sort of Robin Hood quality about him--steals from the rich to give to the poor--that sort of thing?" "That's more or less true, but the herd believes it utterly." He sighed. "It was a black day for us when Diaz sailed." Jimsy King had been listening. "But, Uncle Rich', they _have_ had a rotten deal, haven't they?" His uncle shrugged. "Got to treat 'em like cattle, boy. It's what they are." "Well, it's what they'll always be if you keep on treating 'em that way!" Jimsy spoke hotly and his uncle turned amused eyes on him.