Then came the gold seekers scarring the hills of the northern part of the state with their mines. And in their wake came the farmers and ranchers with their new-fangled farm machinery. They took the rich valleys where the countless herds of the Dons had roamed in the past, and began making that marvelous soil produce crops of wheat. The old order with its lazy ways could not survive before the new day with its energy and modern business methods. The Dons went to the wall.
“To-day,” said Harlan, in his drawling southern voice, “there are some of their descendants left. But they cut little figure in the present-day California.”
“Well, I think it’s a shame,” he said. “I know that we are supposed to believe our own ways of living are the best, but I, for one, wish California had stayed the way it was.”
Bob leaned toward Frank and assumed a confidential tone.
“He’s thinking of Senorita Rafaela,” he said.
She was the daughter of Don Fernandez y Calomares, a wealthy Mexican of pure Castilian descent living in a palace in northern Mexico. The Don was leader of the Mexican rebels who, as related in _The Radio Boys on the Mexican Border_, had captured Mr. Hampton. Jack and Bob in the latter’s airplane had gone to the rescue, and the young Spanish girl had given them valuable aid.
At Bob’s words, which although low spoken were intended to reach Jack’s ear, the latter flushed. Then he reached over and pulling Bob’s cap down over his eyes started to shake him good-naturedly. In a moment all three boys were entangled. Mr. Temple laughed and explained the situation to Mr. Harlan. The two men watched the chums amusedly, until a sudden lurch as the train whirled around a sharp curve threatened to send Jack flying overboard.
With a quick movement Mr. Harlan seized Jack by the coat and pulled him back to safety.
“That was a close call,” said Mr. Temple gravely. “You boys ought to be more careful.”
At Oroville, which he explained was in the heart of the apple country, Mr. Harlan left the party. All were sorry to bid him farewell, for he had been a jolly and informative companion. Dinner was served, and the party returned to the club car where Mr. Temple settled down with his cigar and a newspaper. Presently the chums grew tired of reading, and once more sauntered out to the observation platform.