father died without making a will, Victor has claimed and disposed of property which he ought to have divided with his sisters.  At least, some speculating rascals in San Francisco have set up what they call ‘the Sisters’ title,’ and are selling it to actual settlers on the unoccupied lands beyond.  As, by the law, it would hold possession against the mere ordinary squatters, whose only right is based, as you know, on the presumption that there is no title claimed, it gives the possessor immunity to enjoy the use of the property until the case is decided, and even should the original title hold good against his, the successful litigant would probably be willing to pay for improvements and possession to save the expensive and tedious process of ejectment.”

“But this does not affect you, who have already possession?” said Clarence quickly.

“No, not as far as this house and the lands I actually occupy and cultivate are concerned; and they know that I am safe to fight to the last, and carry the case to the Supreme Court in that case, until the swindle is exposed, or they drop it; but I may have to pay them something to keep the squatters off my unoccupied land.”

“But you surely wouldn’t recognize those rascals in any way?” said the astonished Clarence.

“As against other rascals?  Why not?” returned Peyton grimly.  “I only pay for the possession which their sham title gives me to my own land.  If by accident that title obtains, I am still on the safe side.”  After a pause he said, more gravely, “What you overheard, Clarence, shows me that the plan is more forward than I had imagined, and that I may have to fight traitors here.”

“I hope, sir,” said Clarence, with a quick glow in his earnest face, “that you’ll let me help you.  You thought I did once, you remember,—­with the Indians.”

There was so much of the old Clarence in his boyish appeal and eager, questioning face that Peyton, who had been talking to him as a younger but equal man of affairs, was startled into a smile, “You did, Clarence, though the Indians butchered your friends, after all.  I don’t know, though, but that your experiences with those Spaniards—­you must have known a lot of them when you were with Don Juan Robinson and at the college—­might be of service in getting at evidence, or smashing their witnesses if it comes to a fight.  But just now, money is everything.  They must be bought off the land if I have to mortgage it for the purpose.  That strikes you as a rather heroic remedy, Clarence, eh?” he continued, in his old, half-bantering attitude towards Clarence’s inexperienced youth, “don’t it?”