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experience。 But the eyes were thoughtful and kindly； and the boy later
believed that if he had been more familiar with the face he would have
loved it better。 For it was the last and only day he was to see it； as； late
that afternoon； after a dusty ride along more traveled highways； they
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reached their journey's end。
It was a low…walled house； with red…tiled roofs showing against the
dark green of venerable pear and fig trees； and a square court…yard in the
centre； where they had dismounted。 A few words in Spanish from Flynn
to one of the lounging peons admitted them to a wooden corridor； and
thence to a long； low room； which to Clarence's eyes seemed literally piled
with books and engravings。 Here Flynn hurriedly bade him stay while he
sought the host in another part of the building。 But Clarence did not miss
him； indeed； it may be feared； he forgot even the object of their journey in
the new sensations that suddenly thronged upon him； and the boyish vista
of the future that they seemed to open。 He was dazed and intoxicated。 He
had never seen so many books before； he had never conceived of such
lovely pictures。 And yet in some vague way he thought he must have
dreamt of them at some time。 He had mounted a chair； and was gazing
spellbound at an engraving of a sea…fight when he heard Flynn's voice。
His friend had quietly reentered the room； in company with an oldish；
half…foreign…looking man； evidently his relation。 With no helping
recollection； with no means of comparison beyond a vague idea that his
cousin might look like himself； Clarence stood hopelessly before him。
He had already made up his mind that he would have to go through the
usual cross…questioning in regard to his father and family； he had even
forlornly thought of inventing some innocent details to fill out his
imperfect and unsatisfactory recollection。 But； glancing up； he was
surprised to find that his elderly cousin was as embarrassed as he was；
Flynn； as usual； masterfully interposed。
〃Of course ye don't remember each other； and thar ain't much that
either of you knows about family matters； I reckon；〃 he said grimly； 〃and
as your cousin calls himself Don Juan Robinson；〃 he added to Clarence；
〃it's just as well that you let 'Jackson Brant' slide。 I know him better than
you； but you'll get used to him； and he to you； soon enough。 At least；
you'd better；〃 he concluded； with his singular gravity。
As he turned as if to leave the room with Clarence's embarrassed
relativemuch to that gentleman's apparent reliefthe boy looked up at
the latter and said timidly
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〃May I look at those books？〃
His cousin stopped； and glanced at him with the first expression of
interest he had shown。
〃Ah； you read； you like books？〃
〃Yes；〃 said Clarence。 As his cousin remained still looking at him
thoughtfully； he added； 〃My hands are pretty clean； but I can wash them
first； if you like。〃
〃You may look at them；〃 said Don Juan smilingly； 〃and as they are old
books you can wash your hands afterwards。〃 And； turning to Flynn
suddenly； with an air of relief； 〃I tell you what I'll do I'll teach him
Spanish！〃
They left the room together； and Clarence turned eagerly to the shelves。
They were old books； some indeed very old； queerly bound； and worm…
eaten。 Some were in foreign languages； but others in clear； bold English
type； with quaint wood…cuts and illustrations。 One seemed to be a
chronicle of battles and sieges； with pictured representations of
combatants spitted with arrows； cleanly lopped off in limb； or toppled over
distinctly by visible cannon…shot。 He was deep in its perusal when he
heard the clatter of a horse's hoofs in the court…yard and the voice of Flynn。
He ran to the window； and was astonished to see his friend already on
horseback； taking leave of his host。
For one instant Clarence felt one of those sudden revulsions of feeling
common to his age； but which he had always timidly hidden under dogged
demeanor。 Flynn； his only friend！ Flynn； his only boyish confidant！
Flynn； his latest hero； was going away and forsaking him without a word
of parting！ It was true that he had only agreed to take him to his guardian；
but still Flynn need not have left him without a word of hope or
encouragement！ With any one else Clarence would probably have taken
refuge in his usual Indian stoicism； but the same feeling that had impelled
him to offer Flynn his boyish confidences on their first meeting now
overpowered him。 He dropped his book； ran out into the corridor； and
made his way to the court…yard； just as Flynn galloped out from the arch。
But the boy uttered a despairing shout that reached the rider。 He
drew rein； wheeled； halted； and sat facing Clarence impatiently。 To add to
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Clarence's embarrassment his cousin had lingered in the corridor； attracted
by the interruption； and a peon； lounging in the archway； obsequiously
approached Flynn's bridle…rein。 But the rider waved him off； and； turning
sternly to Clarence； said：
〃What's the matter now？〃
〃Nothing；〃 said Clarence； striving to keep back the hot tears that rose
in his eyes。 〃But you were going away without saying 'good… by。'
You've been very kind to me； andandI want to thank you！〃
A deep flush crossed Flynn's face。 Then glancing suspiciously
towards the corridor； he said hurriedly；
〃Did HE send you？〃
〃No； I came myself。 I heard you going。〃
〃All right。 Good…by。〃 He leaned forward as if about to take
Clarence's outstretched hand； checked himself suddenly