"You say I'm sitting in the game and the stake is large. Well said, perhaps. But remember, if I play I'll use the card that means the most to the province of California." The señor again nodded, as if retailing some pleasantry of the day. O'Donnell rode away. "Papacito!" called Carmelita. "It is late. We are waiting." In a moment they were with their guests. Folding doors opened and the well-lighted dining room was before them. At once dinner was under way. The peons, trained by Mendoza, served well. The generous hospitality of early California found expression in the viands and vintages which Mendoza offered his guests. Peons touched fitting music from stringed instruments; others sang in the melodious voice of the aborigine. "Señorita Mendoza, heard you not that the great spring merienda comes early this year by reason of the drought?" asked Captain Morando. "Does a picnic so interest you, Comandante Morando?" "Never have I seen such a picnic as must be the spring merienda in the valley of Calaveras. Everywhere I hear people speak of it." "Soon you may judge of its excellence for yourself. Now begins to sing my peona, Modesta. Her voice equals in sweetness the notes of the thrush. Listen, while she gives the ancient airs of Oroysom. They are heart-touching and beautiful." The señorita's dueña engaged Moranda's attention the moment the singing ceased, suddenly remembering to ask for some acquaintance in San José. "Señorita Doña Mendoza, say I have your first dance this evening?" called Abelardo Peralto from across the table. "I, the second," cried Miguel Soto. "I, the third," from another. "Señorita Doña," asked Morando as soon as he was at liberty, "have you a dance left for me?" "First come, first served, is the law in this province," she replied mischievously. "Then I am to have no dance with you to-night," despairingly. "Did you ever hear the saying about the early bird and the worm, Captain?" laughed Peralta. "I object to being compared to a worm," said Carmelita. "For your punishment, Señor Don Abelardo Peralta, I deprive you of the grand march, which belongs to the first dance, and I give it to the Señor Captain." "Woe! Woe!" cried Peralta. "I will be the worm, Señorita Mendoza. You are the beautiful early bird. O, do not punish me!" The girl looked at him with mock severity. "I have given my sentence." The host touched a bell. "Are we ready for the dancing?" he asked. The company cheered heartily. "I hear the musicians tuning their instruments. Let us hence. If we cannot have the patter of rain during this season of drought, we can at least have the patter of feet." Laughing and happy, the sons and daughters of the province repaired to the dancing room. CHAPTER V ANOTHER STRANGER MAKES A VISIT "I hear the neigh of horses and the shouts of men. Has Dario, the head vaquero, returned from the valley of the San Joaquin? Or, perchance, is it some messenger from him?"