While they were gone Louise told them something of young Hahn's history.He had elopeda，at seventeen years of age，with his father's stenographerb，a charming girl of eighteen who belonged to one of the best families in Washington.Old Hahn was at first furious and threatened to disinheritc the boy，but when he found the young bride's family still more furious and preparing to annul the marriage on the grounds of the groom's youth，the great ？nancier's mood changed and he whisked the pair off to California and bought for them a half—million—dollar ranch，where they had livedfor six years a life of unalloyeda bliss.Having no children of their own，the Hahns were devoted to little Jane and it was Rudolph who had given the baby the sobriquet of "Toodlums."At almost any time，night or day，the Hahn automobile was liable to arrive at El Cajon for a sight of the baby.
"Rudolph—we call him 'Dolph，'you know—has not aparticle of business instinct，"said Louise，"so he will never be able to take his father's place in the ？nancial world.And he runs his ranch so extravagantlyb that it costs the pater a small fortune every year.Yet they are agreeable neighbors，artless and unconventional as children，and surely the great Hahn fortune won't suffer much through their inroadsc."When Arthur returned he brought with him still another neighboring ranchman，an enormous individual fully six feet tall and broad in proportion，who fairly ？lled the doorway as he entered.This man was about thirty years of age，stern of feature and with shaggy brows that overhung a pair of peacefulblue eyes which ought to have been set in the face of some child.This gave him a whimsicald look that almost invariably evoked a smile when anyone observed him for the first time.He walked with a vigorous，aggressive stride and handled his big body with consummatee grace and ease.His bow，whenArthur introduced him，was that of an old world cavaliera."Here is another of our good friends for you to know.He's ourneighbor at the north and is considered the most enterprising orange grower in all California，"announced Weldon，with a chuckle that indicated he had said something funny.
"Lemon，"said the man，speaking in such a shrill，high—pitched tenor voice that the sound was positively startling，coming from so massive a chest.
"I meant lemon，"Arthur hastened to say."Permit me tointroduce Mr.Bulwer Runyon，formerly of New York but now the pride of the Paci？c coast，where his superb oranges—""Lemons，"piped the high，childish voice.
"Whose lemons are the sourest and—and—juiciest ever grown.""What there are of them，"added the man in a wailingtenor.
"We are highly honored to meet Mr.Bulwer Runyon，"said the major，noticing that the girls were for once really embarrassed how to greet this new acquaintance.
"Out here，"remarked Dolph Hahn，with a grin，"we dropthe handle to his name and call him 'Bul Run'for short.Sounds sort of patriotic，you know，and it's not inappropriate.""You wrong me，"said the big rancher，squeaking the words cheerfully but at the same time frowning in a way that might well have terrified a pirate."I'm not a bull and I don'trun.It's enough exertion to walk.Therefore I ride.My new car is equipped with one of those remarkable—""Pardon me；we will not discuss your new car，if you please，"said Arthur."We wish to talk of agreeable things.The marvelous Castro is concoctinga some of his mysterious dishes and we wish you to assist us in judging their merits.""I shall be glad to，for I'm pitifully hungry，"said thetenor voice."I had breakfast at seven，you know—like a working man—and the ride over here in my new six—cylinder machine，which has a wonderful—""Never mind the machine，please.Forget it，and try to be sociable，"begged Dolph.
"How is the baby，Mrs.Weldon？"
