“Not quite from the first.  After you had taken me to your ranch and I had seen how things stood between you and the folks in the valley I did.  You’ve smoked me, ma’am.  I’m a born grand-stander.”  He laughed in amusement at himself.  “I wanted to be it, the hero of the piece, the white-haired boy.  But that wasn’t the way it panned out.  I was elected villain most unanimous, and came mighty near being put out of business a few times before I could make the public sabe I was only play acting.  Funny how things work out.  Right at the last when I’ve got the spotlight all trained for me to star and the music playing soft and low, Don Manuel here jumps in and takes the stage from me by rescuing the villain from a fiery furnace.  I don’t get any show,” he complained whimsically.

Valencia smiled.  “The action of the play has all revolved around you, anyhow.  That ought to satisfy you.  Without you there wouldn’t have been any entertainment at all.”

“I’ve had plenty of fun for my money.  I’m not making any complaint at all.  When a pretender invades a country to put the reigning queen out of business he has a license to expect a real warm welcome.  Well, I got it.”

Once again Jimmie Corbett appeared in the doorway, this time with a yellow envelope which he handed to Gordon.

Dick read the enclosed telegram and passed it to Pesquiera.

The Spaniard waved his hand and made a feeble attempt at a cheer.

“Am I to hear the good news?” Valencia asked.

“Read it, Mr. Pesquiera.”

Manuel read: 

  “Relinquishment of claim to Moreno grant in favor of Valencia
  Valdes filed ten minutes ago.  Have you taken my advice in regard to
  consolidation?

  KATE UNDERWOOD.”

“What does she mean about a consolidation?” asked Miss Valdes.

Dick flushed.  “Oh, that was just something we were talking over—­some foolishness or other, I reckon.  Nothing to it.  The important point is that the legal fight is over.  You’re now the owner of both the Valdes and the Moreno claims.”

“Le roi est mort!  Vive la reine!” cried Manuel gaily.

“I can’t be said to have had a very peaceful reign.  Wish you better luck, ma’am.”  He let his eyes rest drolly on the invalid for a moment.  “And I hope when you take a prince consort to share the throne he’ll meet all expectations—­which I’m sure he will.”

Dick shook hands with the bright-eyed flushing girl.

She laughed in the midst of her blushes. “Gracias, senor! I’ll save your good wishes till they are needed.”

“Adios, Don Manuel.  See you to-morrow if you’re up to it.  I expect you’ve had enough excitement for one day.”

“I’ll let you know then whether I can accept your gift, Mr. Gordon,” Valencia told him.

“That’s all settled,” he assured her as he left.

* * * * *