THE POWER OF THE WRITTEN WORD

by Kathryn. D. Green

Felipe Cortez sat cross-legged on Don Diego de la Vega's bed, watching his patrón comb his smooth, black hair as he stood before the large, gilded mirror. Earlier, his trunks had been taken out to the carriage. The mid-morning sunlight poured in through the window across the room.

It was near the end of May, 1816, and Don Diego was going away. He was going halfway around the world to Madrid, Spain, to attend a university there. He would be gone for four whole years, maybe five. Felipe would be 12 or 13 when Don Diego returned.

The de la Vegas were enormously wealthy, prominent caballeros. Theirs was the most influential family in southern California. The previous summer, Felipe's parents, residents of central Mexico, had been killed in the revolution, and Felipe had lost his speech and hearing. Don Diego, then on a return trip from Guadalajara, had found the little boy and brought him to California. After a long, futile effort to find the seven-year-old deaf-mute a home, the de la Vegas had hired him as their houseboy.

Felipe had worked for the de la Vegas for the past seven months, and a strong bond had formed between him and his patróns, especially between Felipe and Don Diego. Since Felipe was an indentured servant, he had to continue to work for them until he was 25. Then, he would be free to do what he wanted.

Earlier that morning, Don Diego had donned the same yellowish-beige charro jacket he had worn on the day he and his tutor had first found Felipe, and a matching pair of trousers. Felipe had polished his patrón's boots at dawn; they now shone in the sunlight. Felipe admired them for a moment.

Felipe sighed. I don't want you to go. I want you to stay here! He pressed his hand against the soft, satin bedspread. The mattress sagged underneath as he shifted position. Felipe bit his lower lip. Why are you going, anyway? Why do you have to go? Why can't you just stay here? What do you need to go to Spain for, Don Diego?

Don Diego laid down the comb on the mahogany dresser and turned around. He smiled kindly when he saw the boy's woebegone face. "You don't want me to leave, do you?" Felipe shook his head.

Don Diego sighed and perched on the bed next to the eight-year-old Mexican boy. The mattress sagged underneath Don Diego's weight. "Well, Felipe, I'm going to miss you, too. I'm going to miss you and my father both. But I have to go. It's a de la Vega tradition to attend college in Madrid, and my father would not want me to break that tradition." He cupped his hand under Felipe's chin. "But I won't be gone, forever; I promise you that. When my university education is finished, I shall return. To stay."

Felipe nodded reluctantly. Don Diego's promise was little comfort. To a small boy, four or five years were forever. Don Diego kissed Felipe's soft cheek, then clasped the boy to his chest and hugged him for a long moment.

Suddenly, the caballero let the boy go; glancing at his face, Felipe swiveled his head. The de la Vega butler stood next to the bed. "Your father says it's time to go, patrón."

Don Diego nodded. "Why don't you come with me out to the carriage to say good-bye?" he told the boy.

Felipe nodded. He would just have to be as brave as he could. He had no choice.

He followed Don Diego down the hall. Just before they reached the entrance to the dining room, Don Diego turned around and glanced down at the woebegone boy. He smiled and put his arm around Felipe's shoulders. "Come, now. It won't be so bad." He led Felipe into the dining room. "I don't want you to worry about a thing, Felipe. I'll write to you every month, and before you know it, I'll be back."

Felipe asked, via gestures, the question that had been haunting him for weeks: why Don Diego was going away to college. Don Diego knelt before him.

"Well, I'm going to Madrid, because I want to study all the sciences. And when I return--" Don Diego poked a finger into Felipe's chest. "I'll teach you everything I know."

Felipe suddenly asked, via gestures, if Don Diego would teach him to fence as well. As Felipe danced around, holding his right arm out as if he were fencing, Don Diego chuckled.

"Yes, heh, heh!" With another chuckle, Don Diego rose to his feet. "I'll teach you any bits of swordsmanship I pick up, as well." He led the boy into the spacious entryway, where Don Alejandro waited for his son.

Felipe glanced down briefly at the gleaming, snow-white marble floor. He looked up at Don Alejandro's black satin vest and at the gold chain that hung from a pearl button. At the other end of that chain, a gold timepiece rested in one of Don Alejandro's vest pockets.

"You'll do more than pick it up." As Don Alejandro spoke, Don Diego and Felipe paused in front of him. "I've arranged for you to study with Sir Edmund Kendall, the European sabermaster."

Felipe looked back at Don Diego, who stared at his father. "The saber?!" he repeated. "I have no intention of killing anyone!"

"Well, neither have I, but we live in unpredictable times."

Don Diego looked concerned. "Well, perhaps, I should stay, then."

Don Alejandro shook his head and held up his hand. "No, no! In four years--five at the most--you'll return a mature, educated young man, ready for leadership among the caballeros."

Don Diego nodded his understanding, then glanced down at Felipe. A sad expression flitted across his face as he gently patted the boy's shoulder. "And what of other responsibilities?" He looked back at his father. "Without the ability to hear, he'll be severely handicapped." He rubbed Felipe's shoulder as he spoke.

Felipe looked from him to Don Alejandro. The elderly caballero gazed down at the little boy for a moment, looking serious. He then smiled fondly.

"I taught you to read and write, didn't I?" Don Alejandro addressed his words to Don Diego while gazing at Felipe. He smiled kindly at the boy. "Don't worry." He approached Felipe and rubbed the side of his head. "Even though he's deaf, I'll see that he's well-schooled when you return."

The aged don removed his shiny gold timepiece from his vest pocket and glanced at it. "Now, hurry along! Your ship sails in less than 12 hours."

Don Diego gave Felipe a gentle push as his father spoke. Taking the hint, Felipe raced out the front door and stopped in front of the carriage. One of his jobs was to open and close carriage doors for people, but since this small, green carriage had no doors, he saw instantly that he would not need to bother. A few seconds later, as Felipe stood next to the carriage, the de la Vegas strolled through the gate. A gentle, cool breeze caressed Felipe's cheeks.

Don Diego paused in front of Felipe to shake his hand. Suddenly, tears welled up in his eyes; he bent over to hug Felipe once more. "Take good care of my father for me," he whispered when he let go. Felipe nodded.

Don Diego smiled and stepped into the carriage. The driver cracked his whip at the horse, and the carriage began to move. Don Diego looked back at Felipe, and waved; Felipe waved back. When the carriage had moved several feet, Don Diego stood up, looked back at his father and Felipe, and waved again. Felipe waved once more.

Don Diego sat back down. He did not look back again. Felipe watched as the carriage disappeared over the horizon. He sighed.

I miss Don Diego! I don't want him to go; I want him to stay here. I miss him! A sob rose in his throat, which he struggled to swallow. He didn't want to cry. Not now.

A hand rested on the boy's shoulder; Felipe turned to find Don Alejandro standing directly behind him. The patrón smiled, but his eyes looked sad. "I know, my boy," he said. "I miss him, too. We both will, for it will be a long time before he comes back."

He lifted Felipe up in his arms. "We'll just have to stay busy, you and me; that's the best medicine for pain like ours. And we must try to remember what a great opportunity this is for Diego. He will learn from books, yes, and come back with all manner of knowledge filling his head. But he will also travel, see new places, make new friends, and learn to handle a sword. And when he comes home to stay, he will have all these wonderful memories to cherish for the rest of his life." He kissed Felipe's soft cheek and carried the little boy inside.

In the library, Don Alejandro set Felipe down, then lowered himself onto a satin brocade couch beneath the window. He invited Felipe to sit next to him, so Felipe climbed onto his lap, facing the fireplace. Clasping the boy against his chest, Don Alejandro leaned back and sighed. "Diego's a good man, isn't he?" Felipe nodded. "He loves you very much; I can tell that."

Felipe snuggled against his patrón's chest and smiled agreement. The sweet scent of men's cologne wafted toward the boy's nostrils. Don Diego had become, for Felipe, the loving father he'd never had. I love Don Diego, too, he thought. I sure miss him!

Don Alejandro tapped Felipe's cheek. The boy looked at him. "Felipe, we will stay busy while he's gone; make no mistake about that. You've already been kept busy for the last seven months, learning your duties, serving as altar boy for Padre Bernardo once a month, learning gentlemanly manners, and learning your catechism. And learning to play checkers; you've become such a good checkers player, you beat Diego and me, much of the time!"

Felipe grinned, in spite of the ache of missing Don Diego. He loved to play checkers; Don Diego had taught him how, the previous November. The de la Vegas had given him his own checkers set at Christmas, and he and his patróns had played with it frequently. He also loved to play with the horses; frequently, Miguel let him help take care of Crema, the foal that had been born to the late Princesa the previous November, during Don Rafael de la Vega's visit. Don Alejandro brushed the boy's hair out of his brown eyes and kissed his forehead.

"Now you're going to learn many new things. You're not only going to learn to read and write and do arithmetic, you're also going to learn to ride a horse, to drive a carriage and wagon, to shoot with a gun, to draw and paint pictures, to sculpt statues, to play chess, and many other things. And you're going to learn everything in the books, just as a caballero would. When my son and I are done with you, Felipe, you're going to be as accomplished and well-educated as any caballero."

Felipe wrinkled his nose. He wasn't at all sure he liked the prospect. He didn't mind doing tasks for Don Diego and Don Alejandro, nor did he mind running errands. He didn't object to accompanying the de la Vegas when the patróns made their frequent visits to their tenants' farms. He didn't mind his weekly catechism lessons at the church, or the outdoor farm chores he had to perform two hours every Saturday (as Diego himself had been required to do, until the previous Saturday). Felipe no longer even resented the new manners he had had to learn since coming here, such as holding his shoulders back, eating properly with a fork, knife, and spoon, standing in his patróns' presence unless invited to sit, or keeping his fingers out of his mouth. He enjoyed taking his days off at the church; Padre Bernardo always found interesting things for him to do. (He had not enjoyed the month-long vacation he'd spent at the church, before Easter, because he'd missed the de la Vegas so, but his patróns' daily visits had made the separation easier to endure.) But the thought of having to sit at a desk or table for hours studying, as Don Diego had done with his tutor, Jonathan Spencer, until recently, did not appeal to the little boy.

Felipe had known, of course, that young caballeros had to learn to read and write, and to learn what was in books. Don Diego had told him many tales of his own educational experiences; Don Alejandro had added stories of his own education. And more than once, Felipe had peeked in on Don Diego while he was having his lessons with Señor Spencer. But Felipe never would have guessed that a houseboy like him--a peasant boy--would be required to have book learning, too. He had thought that, as a peasant, he would be exempt from all that.

He looked at Don Alejandro and gestured his objections. Don Alejandro shook his head and smiled.

"Felipe, listen to me." He cupped his hand under Felipe's chin. "Most poor people never even get to learn to read. And that's a real pity, because reading is such an experience--such a pleasurable experience! And the few who do get to attend school--at the mission church--only learn a little. To have an education that can truly lift you out of poverty--save you from peonage--is impossible for most peasants."

He gazed at the boy. "You're eight years old, now. It's high time you began. When we're done with you, you'll be able to understand anyone when they speak, no matter how much they know. Your handicap will not hinder you, as it does, now. You'll be able to go to a university and get further schooling, if you choose, and then go into a profession. A profession that'll make it possible for you to make a good life for yourself, and to help others."

Felipe thought about that for a long moment. He gazed at the rows of leather-bound books on the black shelves spanning the dull-yellow wall across the room. He looked at the books lining the white shelves set into the wall on each side of the fireplace. He asked, via gestures, if he would be able to read them.

Don Alejandro nodded. "Indeed, you will be able to. You'll be able to pick any book off one of those shelves and read it for yourself. You'll be able to read Diego's letters when he writes to us. You, yourself, will be able to write letters, compositions, poems--you name it! And you won't just be able to read in Spanish, either. You'll be able to read and write in Latin, Greek, French, English; you'll be able to add and subtract numbers--oh, you'll know so much, I might have to hire you as a tutor!"

The elderly caballero chuckled; Felipe smiled uncertainly. He wasn't so sure he would be able to learn all that. Or that he even wanted to!

Don Alejandro saw the ambivalence on the boy's face as he smiled. In a way, he suspected, it would be far harder to motivate Felipe to acquire a love of learning than it had been to motivate little Diego. Don Alejandro and his late wife, themselves well-educated, had always valued books and book learning. Their only son had been immersed in books from his earliest years, and had seen how much his parents loved them; all the while, Don Alejandro and Doña Elena Felicidad had impressed on him the value of a good education. They had read to their son every day while he was a child; they had ordered books for him for his own use and pleasure. Don Alejandro had taught Diego to read and write when he was only five, and had hired Diego's tutor when the boy was seven.

On the other hand, Don Alejandro was certain that Felipe's parents had been totally illiterate, themselves, and that they had seen no use for an education for their son. So many peasants, he knew, felt the same way. He didn't doubt that Felipe's parents had told him stories, but they had most likely not owned any books or writing materials. Not even a Bible.

Felipe was making excellent progress in learning his catechism, but he couldn't read it. He couldn't even recognize, recite, or write the alphabet, let alone read, write, or spell words. He couldn't read or write numbers; he couldn't add or subtract, multiply or divide; nor could he tell time. All the little boy could do was count to ten on his fingers, and count other objects to that same number. Somehow, Don Alejandro would have to create in Felipe a desire to learn.

For Felipe, education isn't a luxury, the elderly caballero thought. With his handicap, it's a necessity. Diego and I have taken him to every doctor in California; none of them can cure his deafness. Since it appears to be incurable, he must have alternative ways of taking in information. He must learn to read and write! He smiled. It may be against custom to give a peasant boy an education above his station, but a classical education is exactly what Felipe needs. And I mean to see that he gets it!

He leaned back, hugged Felipe, and sighed. Without his son, Diego, it was going to be so lonely!

It's going to be hard on us both, he thought. I miss my son, too. I wonder, myself, how we're going to get through the next four or five years.

He remembered the advice he'd given Felipe. Yes, that's what I'll do, he thought. Just keep busy. I've got to run the ranch and educate Felipe, anyway, and of course, I've got my duties as a leading caballero and elder of the community. Keeping busy will keep me from missing Diego quite so much.

He smiled at Felipe. "Well, amigo, how about a game of chess?" Felipe stared at him, then at the chessboard. "Yes, chess," Don Alejandro said. "Your first chess lesson. You're ready, now. I'll be black."

Felipe slid off his lap and approached the ivory chessboard across the room. The two sat down at the white table on which the chessboard rested, and Don Alejandro started off by teaching Felipe the names of the black and white chess pieces. He then taught Felipe how to move each ivory piece. Felipe watched attentively and copied Don Alejandro, as the elderly caballero moved each of his black pieces to demonstrate. When Felipe had learned by heart the names of the pieces and their moves, Don Alejandro taught the little boy the first of many basic chess strategies.

The next morning, Don Alejandro and Felipe went to town to see if there was any mail. Victoria Escalante, the 18-year-old tavern owner, greeted them as they pulled up in front of the tavern. "Don Alejandro, there's a crate for you in the tavern," Victoria said.

Don Alejandro smiled. "It must be the shipment I've been waiting for. Come on, Felipe, let's go inside and fetch it." Felipe climbed down off the driver's seat and opened the carriage door for Don Alejandro.

Felipe followed his patrón inside as Don Alejandro entered the crowded tavern. An employee picked a wooden crate off a shelf behind the bar and set it down on the bar.

A plump soldier approached Don Alejandro as he and Felipe gazed at the crate. Felipe looked up at him.

"Are you Don Alejandro de la Vega?" the soldier asked.

"Si." Don Alejandro shook his hand. "You must be our new sergeant. The alcalde told me he's recently hired one."

The sergeant nodded. "I am Sergeant Jaime Mendoza. I just arrived, last week. Who's this boy?" He gazed down at Felipe as he spoke.

Don Alejandro put an arm around Felipe's shoulder. "Sergeant, this is my servant boy, Felipe. I hired him last fall. He can't hear or speak, but he can read lips. He lost his parents in Mexico, last summer, so he lives with me, now."

Sergeant Mendoza nodded. "An orphan?" Don Alejandro nodded. "I'm an orphan, too." He knelt down before Felipe and patted his cheek. "It's a pleasure to meet you, muchacho." Felipe smiled. "You know, I don't have any parents, either; I lost them when I was just a little boy. We have a lot in common, don't we?" Felipe nodded.

The sergeant rose to his feet and looked at Don Alejandro. "The alcalde tells me you have a son."

"That's right." Don Alejandro smiled. "His name's Diego. He left yesterday for Spain, to attend Madrid University. He'll be gone for four or five years."

Sergeant Mendoza leaned against the bar. "You look tired, Sergeant." Don Alejandro inserted his thumbs into his vest pockets.

"I am, Don Alejandro." The sergeant set his hat on the bar. "All last night on patrol, and again, tonight. Last week--" He paused to swallow the glass of lemonade Victoria had set on the counter for him. "Last week, someone stole several crates of explosives from the cuartel in San Diego. A courier's being sent to all garrisons up and down El Camino Real, to keep a lookout for the thief."

Don Alejandro frowned. "I hope the thief is caught before he steals any more explosives." He glanced down at the crate. "If you'll excuse me, sergeant, Felipe and I must return to the hacienda. It was a pleasure to meet you." The sergeant nodded and left. Don Alejandro lifted the crate up and lugged it out to the carriage. The driver helped him lift it into the back seat.

Back at the hacienda, Don Alejandro pried the crate open, as Felipe leaned against the dining table and watched. When the wooden lid lay on the floor, Felipe stood on tiptoe to peek inside.

The crate was filled with books. A slate framed with wood, several slate pencils, and a thin leather-bound book rested on top.

The little boy asked, through gestures, if the books were for Don Alejandro. The aged don shook his head and pointed at Felipe.

Felipe stared at him. Those books were for him?!

Don Alejandro chuckled at the boy's stunned expression. "Yes, amigo, these are your schoolbooks and materials. Tomorrow, we start your lessons. That's why I ordered this crate of books." With a smile, he clasped his hands behind his back. "I was brought up to value learning, my boy, and so was my son. Diego and I want you to learn to value it, too."

As Don Alejandro stood tall and straight, watching, Felipe picked up the books and gazed at them. He rubbed his fingers on the leather covers, rifled through the crisp, white, gilt-edged pages, and peered at the pictures inside each one. He repeatedly looked up at his patrón as he picked up each book. Each time he did, Don Alejandro recited for him the book's title.

"Bible Stories for Children," Don Alejandro said. "Mexican Folk Tales. Folk Tales from Spain. Mother Goose Rhymes. Aesop's Fables. Grimm's Fairy Tales. Fairy Tales by Charles Perrault. The Arabian Nights. Tales from Shakespeare. Greek, Roman, and Norse Myths, Heroes, and Legends."

When Felipe picked up each of the readers, Don Alejandro recited to Felipe their names, from the primer to the Sixth Reader. Moments later, as Felipe riffled through the blank, gilt-edged pages of the leather-bound book on top, Don Alejandro told him, "That's a copybook. When I teach you to write with ink, you will use that copybook to practice your handwriting. First, though, you will learn to write with this slate and these slate pencils." He tapped the slate as he spoke. "And you will learn to write on parchment, with a regular pencil."

Felipe set the copybook down and gazed at it for a long moment, until his patrón laid a hand on his shoulder. Reluctantly, Felipe shifted his gaze from the copybook to Don Alejandro's lined face.

"Starting tomorrow, Felipe, I will teach you the alphabet," Don Alejandro told him. "You will learn to read and write letters. While I'm at it, I will teach you to read numbers. I will teach you how to read them and how to write them." He paused.

"When you know all the letters and their sounds, I'll start teaching you to read the primer and to write words. And when you know numbers, I'll start teaching you how to add and subtract. You already know how to count to 10, but you need to learn to count higher than that, to read and write numbers as well, and how to use them in other ways." Felipe reluctantly nodded acquiescence. He had no choice, he knew.

It'd be nice to know what Don Diego and Don Alejandro like to read, he thought. Sometimes, I look at 'em readin' and wonder what their books say. They sure love to read! Felipe grimaced. If my papá was still alive, he wouldn't let me learn to read. He hated that stuff. What about Mommy? What would she think?

That afternoon, after siesta, Don Alejandro rode to the hacienda of Don Alfonso de la Calderon, a friend of his. "Don Alejandro!" The aged caballero laughed and shook his hand. "Come in; be seated!"

Don Alejandro chuckled and sat down in the pastel-blue drawing room. The silk-brocade mattress sagged underneath him. "Thank you, I will. Alfonso, is Jonathan Spencer here?"

"Si. As you know, he's tutoring my nephew, who's staying with us while his parents are in Monterey." Don Alejandro nodded. "Do you need to see him?"

"Si, por favor."

Don Alfonso sent a servant to find the tutor. Minutes later, Señor Spencer arrived.

"Don Alejandro!" He shook Don Alejandro's hand. "I hear Diego's left for Madrid."

Don Alejandro smiled sadly. "Si, he has. I miss him, but I'm glad he's got this chance."

Señor Spencer nodded as he sat down in a matching armchair. "It's hard to see him go, isn't it? Hard to be separated from him for so long." Don Alejandro nodded.

"I'll just have to keep busy." The elderly caballero sighed. "In a way, Jonathan, that's why I came to see you. While Diego's gone, I'm going to educate Felipe. I promised my son I would have Felipe well-educated when he returned." Señor Spencer nodded.

"Diego will take over his education when he returns from Madrid," Don Alejandro said. "He's going to teach Felipe the sciences when he does. That means the boy will have to be prepared in advance, but--" He sighed. "My own education did not include science."

Jonathan Spencer smiled. "I know why you came here. You came to ask me if I would be willing to prepare Felipe."

Don Alejandro nodded. "My own tutor and college professors gave me an excellent education, but as you know, I received no science instruction. Any knowledge I have since acquired has been rather rudimentary. Would you be willing to prepare Felipe as you did my son? You probably know more about science than anyone else in this territory."

Señor Spencer smiled his thanks for the compliment, then leaned back to consider the request. "It's not the custom for tutors to teach servants, as you know, Don Alejandro." He paused again. "However, in this case, I'll make an exception. For you and Diego. And for the boy's sake. I'm fond of him, too."

Don Alejandro smiled gratefully. "Gracias, señor."

"When does Felipe's education start? And at what level?"

"Tomorrow. I'm going to teach him the alphabet and numbers. Together."

"When the boy's learned the rudiments of reading and writing, let me know. In the meantime, I'll start planning his lessons." Don Alejandro nodded.

"Forgive me, Alejandro, but do you mean to teach the boy as you would a caballero?" Don Alfonso gazed at him quizzically.

Don Alejandro chuckled. "Indeed, I do, amigo. Felipe has a good mind. As you know, he can neither hear nor speak, and without a good education, his deafness will have serious consequences."

Don Alfonso nodded agreement. "True."

"Well, I want him to acquire as much knowledge as he's capable of learning."

Doña Elena leaned forward. "Don Alejandro, is there no hope that the boy will ever hear or speak?"

Don Alejandro shook his head sadly. "Diego and I have prayed and prayed that he would. And we've taken him to every doctor in the territory, beginning with Dr. Hernandez. We even wrote to a famous doctor in Mexico City, who came to Los Angeles at his own expense, just to examine the boy. His handicap appears to be permanent."

Don Alejandro rose to his feet and clasped his hands behind his back. "I must be getting back; I have to plan the boy's lessons for tomorrow. I'll see you soon, Alfonso. Jonathan, again, thank you." He left.

As Don Alejandro returned to his hacienda, he felt relieved. If he, himself, had had to prepare Felipe for Don Diego's science instruction, the boy would have been inadequately prepared when Don Diego returned. He pressed his boots against Dulcinea's sides; the white mare broke into a gallop.

When Don Alejandro arrived home, he gave Felipe a second chess lesson. This time, Don Alejandro used the white pieces, so as to let Felipe make the opening move. Felipe remembered the names of the ivory pieces and the moves of each, so he did not need a review. Don Alejandro taught him some new moves, which Felipe learned quickly.

"Felipe, when you've learned to read and write some, Señor Spencer's going to teach you some science." Don Alejandro moved one of his white knights as he spoke. "He knows more about science than anyone."

Felipe frowned. "Now, now, Felipe," Don Alejandro gently chided. "It'll be fun, I promise. You need to be properly prepared so that when Diego returns, you'll be ready for his instruction. I was not taught science, Felipe, so I myself can't prepare you. Señor Spencer can. He instructed Diego, and he has agreed to instruct you."

Felipe sighed. He really couldn't see the need for book learning. No peon would ever have books to read, he knew. In spite of what Don Alejandro had said, he couldn't see how he ever could do anything with book learning.

Why do I have to learn books? Felipe wondered silently, as he moved a black pawn. I'm not a caballero!

He sighed. Thinking about books and book learning made him remember Don Diego and miss him terribly. If only Don Diego was there! The caballero had taken such tender care of him from the day he had found him lost on the desert. He had always been there when Felipe needed him.

Felipe remembered the time in January when he had had the measles. Don Diego had sat by him as he had lain in Don Alejandro's soft, comfortable bed. The bedroom had been kept dark, on Dr. Hernandez's orders. Don Diego had fed Felipe soup...stroked the boy's cheeks and brushed his brown hair out of his eyes...patted his shoulder...and smiled at him tenderly. Felipe's father had never done that; Juan had detested sickness and sick boys. Every time Felipe had been hurt or had fallen ill, his father had treated him like a bother, leaving his wife to nurse their sick son. Not Don Diego or Don Alejandro! They were tender and loving.

He looked at Don Alejandro and smiled wanly. "It's your turn, my boy," Don Alejandro said. Felipe moved his black queen. "Well, well!" Don Alejandro chuckled. "It looks as if I'm in check." He moved a white bishop. "Well, Felipe, you may have checked me, but I've just checkmated your king. I've won."

Felipe wrinkled his nose. He knew it would be a long time before he won a game. Still, it was fun to play. Already, Felipe wanted to learn more. Someday, he wanted to play well enough to beat Don Alejandro. He meant to play chess as often as Don Alejandro would let him.

"Felipe, you're a smart boy." Don Alejandro leaned toward him. "It takes some time to learn chess, because there are so many moves you have to learn. You'll probably lose many more games, before you win one. But one day, that will change. When that time comes, you'll know so much about the game, I'll have to stay alert if I want to stay ahead of you. And you'll start winning some games, too." He smiled. "I know, because I know what a smart boy you are. Already, you've learned the pieces' basic moves, and you've learned two basic strategies. To learn so much in just two games, amigo, is no mean feat." Felipe smiled at the praise.

"Remember how often you've beaten Diego and me at checkers?" Felipe nodded. "Well, with practice, you'll eventually be just as skilled in chess."

Felipe slid off the chair. He circled the table and hugged Don Alejandro. "I love you, amigo," Don Alejandro said. "You're a fine boy. I'm so glad you live with Diego and me!" He clasped Felipe to his chest and kissed his forehead.

Felipe left the room. He went outside into the front garden and did a cartwheel. He then sat on the porch steps, thinking about Don Diego. It felt so lonely without him! He wiped the sweat off his forehead with his soft cotton handkerchief and stuffed it into his white, homespun cotton trousers.

He remembered the first time Don Diego had ever taken him fishing, just two months before. One of the servants had just handed Don Diego a fishing pole...

Don Diego gazed down at the boy and smiled. "Well, Felipe, do you want to come with me? I'll teach you how to fish." He clasped his hands behind his back as he spoke.

Felipe grinned broadly in response. He scampered to the kitchen to give the butler Don Diego's message to fetch a second fishing pole and to pack a picnic lunch for two. Felipe then raced back to the drawing room, where Don Diego had been waiting.

Don Diego lifted the little boy up in his arms. "Have you ever fished, before, Felipe?" Felipe shook his head. "Well, then, you're in for a treat! You know, Felipe, when I was a child, my father used to take me fishing and hunting and birdwatching and swimming quite a lot. Next time, I'll take you on a birdwatching expedition."

Felipe grinned in anticipation. The proposed birdwatching trip sounded fun. Don Diego hugged Felipe and kissed the boy's cheek.

Felipe enjoyed himself thoroughly on their trip to Boulder Creek. He caught two catfish, and Don Diego caught a string of bass. For supper, both masters and servants ate fried fish...

Felipe smiled at the memory. Don Diego had, indeed, taken him birdwatching and swimming on several occasions, since. He hoped Don Alejandro would do the same. Don Alejandro had promised to teach Felipe to swim in the near future, and to shoot and to hunt game, when he was older.

Felipe sighed and stared at the bare ground at his feet. If only Don Diego was there! He rose to his feet and trudged around the building toward the stables, where he petted Crema.

That evening, after dinner, Don Alejandro sat at his desk in the drawing room and drew up a lesson plan for Felipe's education. The aged don intended to teach Felipe to lipread, to mouth, to read, and to print a letter and a number per day. He also intended to tell Felipe stories and recite poems to him every day, as he and Don Diego had been doing for the past seven months. Thus far, they had only told the little boy Spanish and Mexican stories and poems, but now the elderly caballero intended to start including stories from other lands. Meanwhile, back in the hut Felipe shared with Pablo the gardener and Juana the laundress, he laid aside the rosary he had just finished praying with, and picked up the brown-and-white stuffed dog the de la Vegas had given him in November. He thought about the book learning he had to begin the next day. He did not relish the idea.

Don Alejandro says I have to, he thought, squeezing the soft, stuffed dog to his chest. I got no choice. But I wish I didn't have to learn stupid books! He sighed. I wish I didn't have to sleep with Señor and Señora Gomez, either! They don't like me; they never have. Pain welled up inside the boy as he thought about Don Diego. I miss him so! He shifted position on the straw mat he had unrolled, earlier.

Pablo Gomez looked at him. "It's bedtime, Felipe."

Felipe nodded, rising to his feet. He opened the wooden box that stored his clothes and put on his cotton nightshirt. He knelt to say his bedtime prayers. When he had finished, he lay down on his stomach, laid his left arm over the stuffed dog, and rested his head on his right arm, as he was accustomed to doing. Pieces of straw dug into his hands and face.

Within minutes, he fell asleep. During the night, he dreamed about Don Diego.

The next morning, after breakfast, Felipe joined Don Alejandro in the library. As Felipe leaned against the white table and watched, Don Alejandro set the chessboard aside. He arranged the slate and two slate pencils. He laid a sheet of parchment and two regular pencils next to the slate.

Before Don Alejandro could say anything, he frowned and whirled around. What's happenin'? Felipe wondered, turning around. The butler strode toward the front door; an instant later, Don Alfonso de la Calderon entered, inserting his right thumb into a vest pocket. He wore a sword strapped to his side and a grim expression on his usually-cheerful face.

"Alejandro, I have bad news." Felipe watched the elderly caballero's face carefully as he spoke. "I've just learned that someone broke into the garrison, last night, and stole several crates of explosives."

Don Alejandro froze. As Felipe looked at him, he glanced down at the boy, then back at Don Alfonso. "Are there any clues as to the identity of the thief?"

Don Alfonso shook his head. "No, but the alcalde thinks it must be the same thief who broke into the cuartel at San Diego. He has every available soldier out looking, and he's asking the caballeros to help. Would you be willing to join us in looking for the stolen explosives, Alejandro?"

Don Alejandro bit his lip, looking uncertain. He folded his arms across his chest. He looked at the school materials, then at Felipe, and sighed. At last, he shook his head.

"I'm afraid I can't, Alfonso." His eyes looked sad. "Normally, I would jump at the chance to help. But I'm committed to teaching Felipe his lessons, and I can't break that commitment, Alfonso. Not for anything."

Don Alfonso sighed in his turn. He nodded. "Of course." He paused. "You know, though, that if some peasant happens across even one of the crates--"

Don Alejandro put his right arm around Felipe's shoulders. "I do. That is precisely why I must not break my commitment." He glanced down at Felipe. "Suppose, while running some errand for me, this young man came across one of the stolen crates? And because he couldn't read the warning on the lid, he decided to open it or play with it? At best, Alfonso, he would be seriously injured. I can't afford to let that happen."

Don Alfonso nodded again. "I quite understand. I won't press you, then."

"You'll keep me posted?"

Don Alfonso nodded. "Si. I will." He patted Felipe's head and left.

Don Alejandro sighed again and smiled at Felipe. "Well, my boy, let's get started." He motioned to Felipe to sit down; Felipe did. He shook his head to indicate that he didn't like what Don Alejandro was going to make him do.

"I know, Felipe. I know." Don Alejandro smiled kindly. "But, you know, amigo, the books I ordered for you are your tickets out of peonage. I'll tell you this: being a peon isn't all that different from being a slave. Neither a slave nor a peon is free. Diego and I both want you to be free to make your own choices when your indenture is finished. A well-educated man is better equipped to make such choices, and to act on them."

Felipe nodded. He wasn't sure he understood all that Don Alejandro was saying, except, of course, that peons weren't free. His father, Juan, had had to work long hours just to pay off the debts that Felipe's grandfather and great-grandfather had also had to pay off. A peon never really did manage to pay off the debt; he just left it to his own children. And then his children, in turn, left it to their children. Had Felipe's parents lived, the debt his father owed would have one day been his own, and he would have had to work long hours to pay part of it off, until one day he bequeathed it to his own children. His Godfather Lopez had explained it to him, one day, the spring before the battle that had killed his parents. He had explained it carefully, in terms an almost-7-year-old could understand, until Felipe had comprehended it fully.

"Let's get started." Don Alejandro picked up a slate pencil and drew three white shapes on the gray slate. "'A,'" Don Alejandro said. He picked up Felipe's hand and laid the boy's fingers on his lips. "'A.'" He smiled at Felipe as the boy felt the vibrations in his patrón's neck. Don Alejandro then had Felipe feel his own throat while attempting to mouth the letter.

Don Alejandro directed Felipe's attention back to the written letters. "Big 'A.' Little 'a.' And another little 'a.'" He pointed at each shape as he spoke.

Felipe watched the caballero's mouth attentively as he spoke the letter's name. He mouthed, "'A.'" Don Alejandro nodded. Felipe pointed at the bigger shape. "Big 'A.'" Don Alejandro nodded again. "Little 'a.'" Felipe pointed at one of the smaller shapes as he did; Don Alejandro nodded again. "Little 'a.'" He pointed at the second smaller shape. Don Alejandro nodded a third time.

"This second little 'a' is used only on a printer. To print in a book." Don Alejandro pointed. "I will not teach you to write it, but I do want you to recognize it when you see it. The first little 'a' is the kind that people use when writing letters, etc. That is the version I will teach you to write."

Felipe asked, via gestures, why there were three kinds of the letter "A."

Don Alejandro chuckled. "Felipe, every letter comes in at least two forms--a capital letter, or big letter, and a small letter. Capital letters are used to begin a sentence, a person's name, and the name of a country or town. Small letters are used for the rest of a word. Only the letters 'A' and 'G' come in three forms. When you learn to read and write sentences, my boy, you will learn all about that, but first, you must learn to recognize and write their shapes."

Don Alejandro told Felipe to feel his lips and his neck again, as the aged don spoke the letter. "All right, Felipe. Now, mouth them for me, as you did a few minutes ago. Try to say them with your lips."

Felipe silently mouthed the name. "'A.' 'A.' 'A.'"

Don Alejandro hugged Felipe and smiled at him proudly. "That's a boy! I knew you could do it."

The elderly caballero erased the letter with a piece of cloth--a "slate-wiper," as Don Alejandro called it--and pressed his slate pencil down on the slate. A small dot appeared when he lifted it up. Slowly, methodically, Don Alejandro made a series of dots. When he was finished, the dots formed the shape of capital "A."

He made one more set of dots in the shape of the small "a." He then turned to Felipe. "All right, Felipe. Now, I want you to connect these dots, and make these A's."

He handed Felipe the second slate pencil and showed the boy just how to hold it. "All right, now, start on the lower left leg of the capital 'A,' and move your slate pencil slowly up those dots. Good. Now, move the pencil down slowly to the bottom of its right leg. Very good. Now, pick the pencil up and connect the two legs by drawing a short line in the middle. Like this." As Don Alejandro spoke, he guided Felipe's hand to make the necessary motions.

The caballero then guided Felipe's hand as the boy connected the dots to make the small "a." Don Alejandro smiled at the boy and hugged him again. "That's my boy!"

He erased the two forms of the letter. He then made six rows of the letter in dots: three rows of capital "A," and three rows of small "a." This time, Felipe connected the dots on his own, as he had been taught.

Don Alejandro hugged him again. "Felipe, you're just too smart for me! I see I'm going to have to write to Diego and tell him what a fine job you're doing." Felipe grinned. "All right. Now, I will print the letter again, and this time, you copy it. And say its name to me, this time, each time you do."

Don Alejandro printed four rows of the letter on the slate's black surface. Felipe hesitated for a moment, then slowly copied them. Each time he drew the letter, he mouthed its name. The letters looked tottery.

Don Alejandro clasped Felipe to his chest and lifted him in the air. "You see, my boy? You can do it, and you did." He kissed the boy's cheek. "Felipe, when I take my siesta, I want you to practice printing the letter 'A,' all right? I will check your work when I wake up. And I want you to do the same thing when you write the number 'one.'" Felipe nodded.

Don Alejandro erased the letters and had Felipe copy them one more time. After he had erased them again, he drew on the slate a straight line standing straight up. He drew a circle underneath.

"'One,'" he told Felipe. He pointed at the circle. "One circle." Felipe glanced at the circle and held up one finger. "Correct. One finger; one circle." Felipe gazed at the shape of the number and mouthed its name. Don Alejandro told Felipe to feel the aged don's throat as Don Alejandro spoke the number three times. He then directed Felipe to feel his own throat and lips as the little boy attempted to mouth the number.

As Don Alejandro had done with the letter "A," he had Felipe trace, then copy, the number again and again. Felipe grinned as he finished. Don Alejandro smiled and hugged him.

"All right, my boy." Don Alejandro handed him the piece of parchment and a regular pencil. "Now, I want you to write the letter 'A'--both capital and small--six times. Then I want you to write the number 'one' six times, on this piece of parchment. Mouth it for me each time you write the letter 'A' and the number 'one.'"

Felipe did as he was told. The forms he drew were ragged and tilted, not straight and round as those of Don Alejandro's were.

"You know, Felipe, for a second attempt to write these letters and numbers, that was well done." Don Alejandro smiled at him. "You'll get better with practice, I promise you. Before I go to siesta, I'll draw the letters and numbers for you, with arrows so you'll remember where to start and in what directions to move your pencil. Now, I'll tell you a Bible story, how's that?" Felipe smiled and agreed. He loved to be told stories.

Don Alejandro led him toward the silk-brocade couch. As Felipe nestled in his lap, Don Alejandro told him the story of David and Goliath. He followed that with a Mexican folk tale, and then recited a nursery rhyme, called "Little Bo Peep." Felipe watched Don Alejandro attentively the whole time. He had to, if he wanted to read the gentleman's lips.

Don Alejandro then talked about strong families and households, and what it took to make them. Felipe paid careful attention as his patrón talked.

When Don Alejandro had finished, he smiled at Felipe. "Felipe, you've done a good morning's work with your lessons. When I write to my son, I will tell him so. I don't have any tasks for you at the moment, so I'm going to let you play till lunchtime. You've earned it. This afternoon, I'll take you to the beach and give you your first swimming lesson."

Felipe smiled his thanks and slid off Don Alejandro's lap. He felt so happy. For the next two hours, he played outside. Don Diego had given him a jump rope for Christmas; he skipped all over the front garden with it. A strong breeze ruffled his brown hair. He then trotted to the stables to play with the horses.

During siesta, he carefully copied the letter "A," in both capital and small forms, and the number "one." That afternoon, Don Alejandro gave him a chess lesson, then sent the boy to deliver a message to the head gardener. Afterward, Don Alejandro took Felipe to the beach, where he gave the little boy his first lesson in floating.

In the days that followed, Felipe came to look forward to his daily lessons. Every morning, after breakfast, Don Alejandro had Felipe review the previous lessons he had learned; he then taught Felipe to lip-read, to recognize, and to print a new letter and number. He would require Felipe to feel the don's throat, then his own, as first Don Alejandro and then Felipe spoke the letters and numbers. He taught Felipe to count to 20, then 30, and higher. He would tell Felipe a Bible story, a folk tale, and a poem. And he taught the boy a new lesson about building strong families and households. After his lessons, Felipe was free to play till lunchtime.

During siesta, Felipe would practice printing not only the new letters and numbers, but also all the letters and numbers he had previously learned. That afternoon, Don Alejandro would give him a chess lesson, then he was back on duty till suppertime. Periodically, Don Alfonso would bring Don Alejandro up to date on the garrison's efforts to recover the missing explosives and to arrest the thief.

Sometimes, Don Alejandro took the boy swimming. Twice a week, he gave Felipe a swimming lesson. Every Saturday, Felipe did some chore outside, as he had done since the de la Vegas had hired him. On Felipe's days off, Don Alejandro would take Felipe to the church after his lessons, and pick him up the following morning after breakfast. Once a week, he took the boy birdwatching. Every chance he got, Felipe played with Crema and with the older horses.

When Felipe had learned to recognize and print the whole alphabet, Don Alejandro began to teach the boy to lipread the beginning sounds of each letter. And he had Felipe continue to practice printing the letters, on his slate and on parchment with a pencil. At the same time, Felipe learned to count to 100, to tell time, and to add and subtract one-digit numbers. He learned how to count money, and how to tell a peso from a centavo, and a centavo from a piece-of-eight. And he learned the months of the year and the days of the week. All the while, Felipe learned to float, and then learned the necessary strokes for swimming.

Don Alejandro never stinted his praise. He praised the boy's effort and his dogged determination. He was proud of Felipe's progress.

All the while, Don Alejandro told him story after story. Every day, he told Felipe a Bible story; he recited for Felipe a nursery rhyme; and he told Felipe various other stories. He told Felipe a great many Mexican and Spanish folk tales. He told the boy fables Aesop had created. In storytelling format, he told Felipe the stories contained in the plays William Shakespeare had written, beginning with Macbeth. And he told Felipe Greek, Roman, and Norse myths and legends. Felipe loved it.

Each time Don Alejandro told him a story, he involved Felipe in the telling by pausing to ask him a question or have him predict what would happen next. When Don Alejandro was finished, he and Felipe would discuss the story and draw out its moral. And all the while, Don Alejandro sought to improve the boy's vocabulary by teaching him big words and their meanings--mostly three a day.

As a result, Felipe's lip-reading gradually improved. He didn't have to strive so strenuously to understand people's speech as he had previously had to do. He looked forward to the day when he would be able to read a book. He so enjoyed practicing his letters during the siesta hour; it was fun. And so was learning to swim and to play chess.

When he thought about Don Diego, he still missed him, but even as he thought wistfully about Don Diego's absence, pride would arise as he thought about how much he was learning, too. He would have much to show Don Diego when he returned!

One morning, Don Alejandro greeted Felipe as the boy entered the library. "Well, Felipe, I've got three surprises."

Felipe gazed at him. The elderly caballero clasped his hands behind his back and smiled.

"Number one: it's the first of August. You had your first lesson on June first, and that was two months ago. Number two: you are now ready to learn to read words. We are going to read Lesson One in the primer." He gestured at the thin, leather-bound book lying on the table next to the writing materials. Felipe jumped up and down, delighted.

Don Alejandro chuckled at the boy's delight. "And Number three: after your lessons, I'm going to give you a present. A reward, really, for all the effort you've put into your lessons up until now." Felipe gestured wildly. "Now, Felipe, if I tell you, it won't be a surprise! You'll find out what it is when your lessons are finished--provided that you work hard during your lessons, today, and not slack off just because you're excited about your gift." The aged don wagged his finger.

Subdued by that warning, Felipe nodded and sat at the table. Don Alejandro had him review the names of the letters and their beginning sounds. He then opened the primer to page one and handed it to Felipe. It had a picture of a black cat sitting on a reed mat, and consisted of the letter "A" and of four one-syllable words.

"All right, Felipe." Don Alejandro leaned forward. "I know you can't read aloud, but just as you've been doing with the letters, I want you to mouth the words. And remember the sounds I taught you to lip-read. I'll have you feel my throat as I speak each sound out loud, then you repeat them."

He had Felipe examine each word, mouth the sound of each letter, and then bring the sounds together. Felipe did as he was told. In the end, he slowly read "aloud," "A cat sat at a mat."

"Excellent!" Don Alejandro hugged him. "Again."

Felipe read the sentence again, mouthing the words as he did. Don Alejandro smiled down at the boy. "Felipe, do you know what you just did?" Felipe stared at him. "You've just read your first words. And not just words, either; you've read your first sentence!"

Felipe grinned as the realization sank in. He read the sentence again: "A cat sat at a mat."

I'm readin' a book! Felipe thought. I'm readin' words and sentences! He grinned.

Don Alejandro hugged him again. "Very good!" he said. "I'm so proud of you! You know, Felipe, it won't be long, now, until you'll be ready for Señor Spencer to come here and give you your science lessons."

He then had Felipe copy the sentences on his slate, being careful to put space between the words. He required Felipe to mouth each word out loud as he printed it. He taught the boy to capitalize the first letter, and to put a period at the end of the sentence. He taught Felipe to recognize and write the letter "A" in cursive. He had Felipe spell each word by mouthing its letters and printing it on the slate from memory.

Don Alejandro then taught Felipe to add and subtract two-digit numbers. He told Felipe a Bible story about David and Goliath, a fable by Aesop, called "The Hare and the Tortoise," and a poem. He then talked about building a strong community, drawing on the lessons he had taught Felipe about building strong families and households while he did.

At last, Don Alejandro announced that lessons were over for the day. "And now, shall we go outside to see your surprise?"

Felipe nodded vigorously. He wriggled with excitement.

Don Alejandro pursed his lips, a sly twinkle in his eyes. "Oh, I don't know. I really think we should wait till tomorrow. Or next week."

Felipe shook his head vigorously and grabbed Don Alejandro's arm. His patrón chuckled.

"All right, Felipe, you win!" He laughed. "Let's go."

Grinning broadly, Felipe skipped on ahead as he hurried toward the back door. He raced outside and darted toward the stable. It sure is nice and sunny, he thought, glancing up at the wisps of clouds floating in the sky. Suddenly, he froze.

A small red pinto pony with white markings stood in front of the stable, wearing a saddle and bridle. Miguel, the vaqueros' foreman, stood next to its head, holding its halter. As he watched the boy gape, he chuckled.

A hand rested on Felipe's shoulder; he turned around to see Don Alejandro gazing down at him. Felipe pointed at the pony, then at his chest.

Don Alejandro nodded as he inserted a thumb into one of his vest pockets. "Yes, Felipe. That's your present. A reward for a good job well done, both in your lessons and in your work as my houseboy."

Felipe raced toward the pony and rubbed its neck. The pony swiveled its head to sniff the boy's face. Felipe stood stock-still as it did.

"It's a Shetland pony," Don Alejandro told him. "They breed and sell them in the Shetland Islands to people all over the world. This Shetland is a stallion, Felipe. I ordered him for you last fall, when I ordered your schoolbooks. You won't be able to ride him for more than a few years; you'll soon be too big. But for now, he'll be just right for your riding lessons."

Felipe hugged the pony's neck. My own pony! he thought, as joy surged in his heart. My very own!

Miguel approached Felipe and touched his arm. "Felipe, I'll saddle it for you this one time, because this is your first time learning to ride. But starting tomorrow, you'll have to learn to saddle the pony yourself. His name is Ocho." Felipe nodded, and Miguel saddled the pony as Felipe watched. A breeze brushed the boy's cheeks.

Don Alejandro smiled. "And now, Felipe, your first lesson. You must learn how to climb on a horse; we call it mounting."

Before Don Alejandro could demonstrate, one of the vaqueros came galloping toward them. From the look on his face, it was evident that something was terribly wrong.

"Jorge!" Don Alejandro stared at him as he dismounted. "What's wrong? What happened?"

The vaquero leaned against his horse and gasped. "Patrón! Pablo Garcia is dead!"

"What?!" Don Alejandro's mouth dropped open.

"He found a crate near his farm--he tried to pick it up. It exploded."

Don Alejandro froze for a moment, shock etched on his face. He took a deep breath. "It must have been one of the stolen crates," he said, hoarsely.

The vaquero nodded. "Si. It was. Señora Garcia is ill with grief."

Felipe gaped up at Jorge, stunned. He remembered Pablo Garcia. The previous November, when Don Diego had tried to find Felipe a home, he had persuaded the Garcias to consider him. They had met Felipe at the mission, only to decide against raising him. On several occasions since, the de la Vegas had taken Felipe to the Garcia farm for a visit.

Don Alejandro shook his head; Felipe watched him. At last, Don Alejandro looked down at the boy. "Felipe, I'm afraid I shall have to postpone your riding lesson. The Garcias are my tenants, as you know. I must help the widow."

The news came as quite a blow to Felipe. He felt grieved. He had so looked forward to his surprise, and now when he had it, he couldn't use it!

A hand rested on his shoulder; Felipe looked up to find Miguel standing before him. "I'll give you your riding lesson, Felipe, if the patrón is willing." Miguel squeezed the boy's shoulder as he spoke.

Don Alejandro smiled sadly and nodded. "I have no objection."

Felipe nodded. He really wanted Don Alejandro to teach him, but he knew there was no help for it.

Seeing the boy's reluctance, Don Alejandro knelt before him. "Felipe, Miguel is one of the best horseback riders in the territory." He touched Felipe's cheek. "As his patrón, I can vouch for his skills with a horse. You follow his instructions, and you'll become a first-rate equestrian--that's a fancy word for a horseback rider." He smiled. "When I get back, Felipe, I want you to show me what Miguel taught you, all right? If I get back before dark, that is." Felipe nodded. "Meanwhile, I also want you to practice printing your words and writing the cursive 'A' during siesta, and to do the arithmetic problems I assigned. I'll check your work when I return."

A reluctant Felipe nodded acquiescence. Don Alejandro patted his shoulder and left.

Miguel helped Felipe mount his new pony. "Always on the left side," Miguel told him, as he adjusted the stirrups and guided the boy's sandals into them. "And once you're in the saddle, keep your heels down. Like this." He lifted his own leg and lowered his heel; Felipe did the same. "That way, if the pony throws you, you won't be caught in the stirrups. If you get caught in the stirrups and the pony runs, he'll drag you, and you will be badly hurt." Felipe nodded.

At first, Miguel held the reins and led the pony around in several circles. He then gave the reins to Felipe and showed him how to make the pony walk and how to make it halt. Felipe did.

An hour later, Miguel halted the pony. "Time to dismount." He helped Felipe climb down. "You did a good job, Felipe. With work, you'll be a good equestrian. I feel it."

Felipe smiled his thanks. For a moment, he rested his head against the pony's neck and hugged it. After he helped Miguel groom Ocho, he raced into the house. During siesta later, he carefully copied the sentence in his lesson, five times, then practiced writing "A" in cursive, six times. Afterward, he completed 10 arithmetic problems.

Late that afternoon, Don Alejandro returned and saddled Ocho. As the aged don watched, Felipe mounted his pony and walked him. He then stopped Ocho and dismounted on his own.

Don Alejandro smiled, yet his eyes looked sad. "You're going to be a good equestrian, my boy. I'm proud of you." He took Felipe inside to inspect the boy's writing exercise and arithmetic assignment.

That evening, Don Alejandro gave Felipe his daily chess lesson in the library. As Felipe took his turns, he frowned in concern. He was worried about Don Alejandro. He never liked to see his beloved patrón so unhappy.

Somethin's wrong, Felipe thought, watching Don Alejandro sigh for the eighth time. Don Alejandro's awful sad. Why?

He stood up, approached Don Alejandro, laid his hand on the patrón's arm, and gazed at him questioningly.

Don Alejandro glanced at Felipe's concerned face and nodded. "Yes, Felipe. I am sad." He leaned back and sighed. "As you know, one of my tenants died today--he was killed by an explosive. And what hurts me more than anything is that it need not have happened!"

Felipe asked, via gestures, if he meant the theft of the explosives.

Don Alejandro nodded. "That's the main reason it need not have happened, yes. But it's not the only reason." He paused. "Felipe, each of the crates had a warning on it. Painted on the lid are the words, 'danger: explosives.' That's so whoever sees the crate will know it's got dangerous contents."

Don Alejandro paused again. "Unfortunately, the warning is worthless to you if you cannot read. Señor Garcia could not, and his inability to read the warning cost him his life. You see, amigo, why it's so important to learn to read?"

Felipe nodded solemnly. He did, indeed.

Don Alejandro leaned back. "Felipe, starting tomorrow, I'm going to help the alcalde's soldiers look for the rest of the missing crates. I don't want any more poor farmers dying if I can help it."

Felipe frowned. Would this bring a halt to his lessons?

"Not to worry, Felipe." Don Alejandro smiled reassuringly. "I will give you your book lessons in the morning. But Miguel will have to give you your riding lessons until all the crates are accounted for, and I'm afraid we won't be able to go swimming or fishing or birdwatching until then. A total of 20 crates were stolen, you see, and only one has turned up. The one that killed Pablo Garcia."

Felipe nodded and stared at his feet. Now it was his turn to feel sad.

An arm snaked around his shoulders. Felipe gazed up at Don Alejandro, who hugged him to his side for a moment. "Come, now." Don Alejandro smiled. "Let's finish the game, shall we?"

Felipe returned to his seat. For the first time ever, he checkmated Don Alejandro's king. "You've won, Felipe." Don Alejandro smiled. "I'm proud of you. Checkmate!"

He paused. "Oh, Felipe, before I forget, you'll be staying at the tavern with Señorita Escalante when I'm out riding with the soldiers. And starting tomorrow, you're going to attend the mission school for the next three months. Every day, after siesta, for three hours. Six months a year at first, until you've caught up with the other children; then three months a year, every year after that, until you're confirmed."

Felipe stared at him with a questioning look on his face.

Don Alejandro leaned forward. "I have my reasons, amigo. I'll explain them to you, one day; for now, I'll just have to ask you to trust me. Miguel has agreed to take you there every day, after your riding lessons, until you can ride there yourself. For now, you'll have to practice your writing and arithmetic after supper, in the hut; I'll check your work at the beginning of your lessons, the next morning." Felipe nodded reluctantly. "You'll be in good hands with Señorita Escalante. She loves children dearly, and she's very fond of you."

Felipe smiled. He was very fond of Victoria Escalante, too. Since it was time for supper, he trudged toward the kitchen. That evening, at his patrón's insistence, Felipe sat at the rough pine table in the hut and practiced writing the letter "A" in cursive, once more, on a square of parchment with his pencil.

I don't want Don Alejandro to go away every day, he thought, as he carefully copied the letter again and again. I want him to teach me to ride! He shifted his position on the hard, unyielding pine bench and rubbed his eyes.

The next morning started as usual. First, Don Alejandro checked Felipe's writing exercise from the night before, then gave the boy his new lessons. In addition to Felipe's usual lessons, Don Alejandro taught him some simple Latin words. Felipe watched Don Alejandro's lips carefully and felt the caballero's throat as the caballero touched objects, spoke their Latin names, and explained their meanings. Felipe then repeated the words by mouthing them as he felt his own throat. Felipe read Lesson 2 in his primer; he copied the sentence on his slate; he spelled each word in his lesson, by mouthing its letters and writing the word from memory; and he added and subtracted some numbers. Don Alejandro gave him another lesson about building a strong community. And he had Felipe trace and copy in cursive the letter "B."

He told Felipe a story about Ruth and Naomi, and another about Romeo and Juliet. He recited for Felipe a poem.

After Felipe's lessons, Don Alejandro left to join the soldiers, and Miguel gave Felipe his second riding lesson. This time, Felipe saddled the pony under Miguel's instruction, then practiced making the pony walk again. "I'll teach you to make him trot, tomorrow," Miguel promised. Felipe smiled at the prospect.

After Felipe's riding lesson, he groomed Ocho under Miguel's supervision. Miguel then took him to town and left him at the tavern. Victoria met him on the terrace.

"Hello, Felipe." Victoria smiled. "Are you hungry?" Felipe nodded. "Come inside with me, and I'll make you something to eat." She led the boy into the tavern. "You'll go to the mission school after siesta."

And Felipe did. With 15 other children--seven other peasant boys, three peasant girls, three young caballeros in velvet suits with silk lace collars and silk-laced-edged sleeves, and two young señoritas in silk dresses and bonnets--Felipe received instruction in the catechism, in learning to read the letters D, E, and F, and in weaving straw. The lessons were held in a small room in the back of the church. Since none of the other peasant children had received any previous instruction, this was their initial instruction in learning the alphabet. For Felipe and for the landowners' children, this was a review session.

After school, Felipe spent the rest of the afternoon helping Victoria. Don Alejandro returned before sunset and took Felipe home.

Near the stable, Felipe demonstrated for his patrón what he had learned, as he saddled Ocho and rode him at a walk. Don Alejandro smiled approvingly and applauded. Before supper, he and Felipe played a game of chess, and Felipe learned a new move. After supper, Felipe joined the Gomezes in their hut; there, he sat at the table and practiced writing his new cursive letters, printing his latest sentence, and performing several problems in addition and subtraction.

He then sat on his straw mat to pray with his rosary, as he always did. When he had finished praying, he played with his stuffed dog until bedtime.

Every day was the same after that. In the morning, Felipe had his lessons. Then Don Alejandro left to join the soldiers, and Miguel gave Felipe his riding lesson. When Felipe's riding lesson was finished, Miguel took him to town. There, Felipe ate his lunch, then went outside to play. After siesta, he attended the mission school. There, Felipe and the five children from wealthy families reviewed the same letters the other peasant children were learning for the first time. All learned their catechism and how to weave baskets.

When Don Alejandro arrived at the tavern, he took Felipe home. There, Felipe showed him what he had learned during his riding lesson, then they went to the library to play a game of chess. After supper, Felipe went to the Gomez hut, where he practiced his handwriting skills and did his arithmetic problems. Then he prayed with his rosary, played with his stuffed dog and his other toys, said his bedtime prayers, and went to bed.

Felipe learned to make his pony trot, canter, and gallop. He learned to jump a foot-high hurdle; when he had mastered that, Miguel raised the height of the hurdle another foot. Gradually, Felipe learned to jump higher and higher hurdles; eventually, he learned to jump fences. As his riding lessons progressed, he learned to groom Ocho without help, to feed him, and to clean the saddle.

By September, Felipe had learned to read and write all 26 letters of the alphabet in cursive. And he could ride so well, he was allowed to ride with Don Alejandro to town, when his morning lessons were finished, and Ocho had been properly fed and groomed. He would eat lunch at the tavern, then help Victoria or play outside until siesta.

After siesta, Felipe would attend the mission school. The children had finished learning to read the letters and recognize their sounds, and were now studying the primer. However, there was no writing or arithmetic instruction, which puzzled Felipe. One night, he asked Don Alejandro why, as they were playing chess.

"The mission school teaches each skill in order," Don Alejandro explained. He moved Felipe's knight off the board with a bishop. "The instructor teaches the basics of reading, first. When the students have finished the Second Reader, they will learn to print, and then to write in cursive. When they can write and spell at a passable level, they will learn simple arithmetic. At that point, when they're 12 or 13, they'll be ready for confirmation. All the while, they'll learn various crafts and their catechism."

Don Alejandro paused. "Those few children from poor families who want to, and whose parents are willing to let them--and those orphans who live at the mission--will get further schooling. They'll improve their reading, writing, and arithmetic skills. They'll learn the rudiments--the basics--of grammar; they'll learn more about theology; and they'll learn all about Spanish and colonial history and geography. All the while, they'll be taught a trade. When they graduate at 14 or 15, they'll be able to read the Bible and write a letter, and they'll have the skills to support themselves."

Don Alejandro waited as Felipe moved his queen into check. Don Alejandro smiled at him. "When you're a few years older, Felipe, I'll teach you to drive a wagon and a carriage," Don Alejandro promised. "Then you'll sometimes drive Diego or me when we need to go somewhere."

Felipe learned more and more Latin words, until he could more or less understand Don Alejandro via lip-reading, when the aged don conversed with him in Latin. Felipe himself could mouth the Latin words and sentences; at Don Alejandro's insistence, he practiced doing so daily. He finished the primer and started to study the First Reader. He consistently learned to spell the words he read, and to write sentences in cursive as well as in print. He learned to count to 1,000, and to add and subtract three- and four-digit numbers.

Meanwhile, Don Alejandro taught him about various Spanish and territorial heroes. He began to teach Felipe to read, write, and spell the Latin words he could lip-read and mouth. And he continued to tell Felipe Bible stories, other stories, and poems. From time to time, Señor Spencer arrived in the evenings to give Felipe a science lesson. Felipe enjoyed it. And he made excellent progress in his chess lessons.

Because he had so much to do and to think about, he sometimes went for days without thinking about Don Diego. And when he did think about him, remembering Don Diego didn't hurt quite so much as it had. Time seemed to go faster.

"When you start your lessons in the Fourth Reader, I'll start coming here every night," Señor Spencer told him, one evening. "Don Alejandro and I want you well-prepared when Don Diego comes back."

He and Don Alejandro watched Felipe sign a question. Señor Spencer smiled. "While you're in the Fourth Reader, I'll teach you about the sun and the moon and the stars--about outer space. When you start your lessons in the Fifth Reader, I'll teach you about the earth and what we know of its history. Then, from the time you start learning the Sixth Reader until Don Diego returns, I'll teach you biology. That's a study of living things and how they work. That's the sequence I followed with Don Diego, when I tutored him, and the sequence I'll use with you."

During that time, exploding crates killed two more peasants. Evidently, the thief was abandoning stray crates here and there. Like Señor Garcia, the two peasants killed had been unable to read the warnings on the lids.

At the end of October, the mission school let out; its students had finished studying the primer and had learned to weave baskets, mats, and other objects with straw. Felipe had learned to make nice straw items, and he had made friends with the other children who attended the school. Sometimes he went to their homes to visit, or had them come to the hacienda to play with him. Felipe knew he would be required to attend another three-month term in February.

In November, Felipe finished the First Reader and went on to the Second Reader. By then, he could read for himself a number of the stories Don Alejandro had ordered for him. He could read two-syllable words on his own; with practice, he began to learn to read three-syllable words.

Don Alejandro started to teach him the rudiments of grammar and punctuation; he gave Felipe spelling lessons by using a spelling book; and he started to teach him about the seven continents, beginning with North America. He began to teach Felipe to write with a pen, using his copybook for handwriting practice. Felipe had to struggle not to make blots on the pages, since the ink tended to drip after he dipped his quill pen into the gold inkwell. Doggedly, the little boy struggled to write neatly the words and passages Don Alejandro assigned him to copy from his reader and speller.

Don Alejandro also taught Felipe to lip-read, read, write, and spell more and more Latin words. He gave the boy daily vocabulary lessons from a university textbook. Felipe memorized the multiplication tables through the twelves, and learned how to do fractions. Don Alejandro taught the boy to solve more written arithmetic problems.

"You're making excellent progress, Felipe," Don Alejandro told him. "Not only in reading your books, but in Latin, too. When you're ready for the Third Reader, I'll start teaching you French, as well." Felipe stared at him quizzically. "France is a country in Europe, and it's right next to Spain. Its people speak French." He got out a world map and showed Felipe the location of France.

Felipe started to write letters and simple compositions, and to memorize and "recite"--to mouth--Bible verses, nursery rhymes, and other poems. To develop the little boy's critical thinking skills, Don Alejandro would discuss with him each story, poem, or lesson he had read, and encourage the boy to express his thoughts about it. Every day, Felipe had to write a composition.

Don Alejandro gave Felipe a leather-bound journal, in which Felipe wrote down the events of each day. He started reading for pleasure; one of his favorite stories was "Dick Whittington and His Cat." To encourage the boy's new love of reading, Don Alejandro gave him seven storybooks he had previously ordered for the boy. When Felipe had his lessons, Don Alejandro had him read a story in one of the collections he had previously ordered, as well as a lesson in his reader. At night, when Felipe had practiced his writing and said his prayers, he would read until bedtime, holding his stuffed dog as he did.

"When you're in the Third Reader, Felipe, we'll start reading the stories in Tales from Shakespeare," Don Alejandro promised. "I've already told you the stories contained in it, so reading the stories should be like coming back to an old friend. When you're in the Fourth Reader, we'll start reading the plays themselves. As you'll see when you read his plays, William Shakespeare was one of the greatest playwrights in history."

One day, in early December, when Felipe had finished his lessons, Don Alejandro handed the boy a note. "Felipe, I have to go to town, but I want you to stay here and eat your lunch." He gazed down at the boy, clasping his hands behind his back. "Then I want you to practice your writing and arithmetic during siesta, as you used to. Following the siesta hour, I want you to take this message to the hacienda of Don Alfonso de la Calderon--I've shown you where he lives. When you've delivered it, go to the tavern and stay there till I come for you. Do you understand me?"

Felipe signed his patrón's instructions. Don Alejandro nodded. "Good boy. I'll see you this evening."

Felipe gestured again; his patrón sighed and shook his head. "No, Felipe, we haven't found the stolen crates yet. But, we're still looking, and we'll keeping looking until they're found. The thief, however, is behind bars in Santa Paula--he tried to steal some explosives there, a few days ago. He's confessed to having stolen the explosives from San Diego and Los Angeles, and to using the first shipment he stole to blow a tunnel in Seattle Ridge--it seems he thought there was a vein of gold there." Don Alejandro shook his head. "He refuses to tell anyone where the Los Angeles explosives are. I'm asking Don Alfonso to go with me to Santa Paula tomorrow, to reason with the bandit. That's why I want you to deliver the message to him. All right?"

Felipe nodded. Don Alejandro patted his shoulder. "Meanwhile, amigo, today, I'll help the alcalde look for the missing explosives, as I've been doing." Don Alejandro smiled at him, then left.

After siesta, Felipe saddled Ocho and rode north to the de la Calderon hacienda, sitting tall and straight in the saddle as Miguel had taught him. A strong breeze mussed the boy's hair. When he arrived, he tied the pony's reins to the hitching post and approached the polished mahogany door.

He knocked. A servant opened the door. Felipe handed him the message.

"Stay here, muchacho." The servant left.

A few minutes later, Don Alfonso appeared. "Felipe! Did you come by yourself?"

Felipe nodded and pointed at his pony. The silver-haired caballero smiled.

"Well, well, aren't you getting to be so grown up! I'm sure Don Alejandro must be proud of you. He's told me of the progress you've made in your studies and your chess, Felipe; evidently, you've made excellent progress in your riding lessons as well." Felipe smiled.

Don Alfonso knelt before him. "Tell Don Alejandro I'll meet with him tomorrow, in the plaza. All right?" Felipe nodded.

"Good. Can you get home all right?" Felipe nodded again. He raced down the steps toward his pony, mounted it, and trotted south. He turned back to wave at Don Alfonso, who waved back and closed his door.

When the de la Calderon hacienda was out of sight, Felipe decided to take a shortcut to town. He rode a little toward the left.

As he rode, he saw a herd of horses grazing in the distance. Halting his pony, he stared at them for a long moment.

I want to get closer! he thought. But how'll I do it without them runnin' over Ocho and me? He decided to look for something he could climb on that would give him a good view.

He circled the horses for the next several minutes. Suddenly, he saw a pile of wooden crates up ahead. He dug his feet into Ocho's sides, and the pony galloped.

Felipe pulled on the reins as the pony approached the pile. The pony stopped. Felipe dismounted and patted Ocho's neck. Ocho nuzzled him.

If I climb on those crates, I'll get a great view of the horses! Felipe raced toward them.

Suddenly, he halted. On the lid of each crate were two words painted in bright-red letters. He couldn't read them from where he stood. In the same instant, he remembered Don Alejandro's words on the day Pablo Garcia had been killed. A shiver ran down the boy's spine.

Maybe these are the stolen crates, he thought. I'd better see.

Felipe cautiously approached the pile and paused to read the words on one of the crates. "'Danger: Explosives,'" he read silently.

Explosives! he thought. I was right! These crates might kill someone! I've got to tell Don Alejandro!

Felipe had to act fast. But how? With a sensation of shock, he realized that if he left now, to find someone to move the crates, some farmer might come here and try to move them himself. Missing crates had already killed three farmers; Felipe didn't want any more to die. He didn't want any of the horses to die, either.

Don Alejandro said 20 crates were stolen, Felipe thought. Three of the crates have killed people. Twenty minus three is--is--uh, seventeen.

Felipe counted the crates in his head. Sure enough, there were 17 of them.

Suddenly, he remembered the notepad and pencil he always carried with him, now. Don Alejandro had given them to him a month before, in case he ever needed help. He removed them and scribbled a note to Don Alejandro. He fastened it to Ocho's saddlehorn and slapped the pony's rump. The pony galloped away.

Felipe suddenly saw that one of the crates was slipping. If it falls, they'll all explode! he thought, wildly. That'll kill the horses and me!

He rushed toward the pile of crates and, bending over carefully, grasped the crate's edges. For a moment, he thought of lifting it up, but thought better of it. It might explode if I do.

How long Felipe stood bending over, holding that crate in place, he didn't know. He only knew that, as time passed, his lower back began to hurt. His hands felt sore. Sometimes, his vision blurred, and he blinked his eyes to clear them. The wind blew his hair in his eyes; he repeatedly had to shake his head to get the hair out. Again and again, he prayed silently for help.

Suddenly, a hand grasped his shoulder; in the same instant, more hands grasped the crate he held. Exhausted, the little boy straightened up and fell into Don Alejandro's arms. His relieved patrón hugged him tightly for a long moment, brushing his bangs out of his eyes and kissing him repeatedly on the top of the head.

At last, Don Alejandro let him go and knelt before him. "Are you all right, amigo?" Felipe nodded. "I'm so glad you're safe!" He hugged Felipe again.

When Felipe finally turned around, he watched the soldiers lift the last crate onto the supply wagon. The alcalde approached Felipe and Don Alejandro, grasping the hilt of his sword.

"Well, that's the last of it." The alcalde sighed. "I believe we can safely say that the remaining crates have been located and will now be returned to the cuartel." He smiled at Felipe and brushed the boy's cheek with his index finger. "We have this young man to thank. If you hadn't stopped to read the warnings on the crates, Felipe, you would have been killed, yourself, and possibly those horses would have been killed, as well. Three farmers have already lost their lives because they couldn't read those warnings."

"And your idea of writing that note to me was very resourceful." Don Alejandro hugged the boy to his side. "Miguel found it on the saddlehorn and sent a vaquero to find me and deliver it. I'm so proud of you!"

Felipe smiled his thanks. He knew that if Don Alejandro hadn't insisted on teaching him to read and write, he wouldn't have been able to do any of the things they were now praising him for, and might well be dead at this moment.

"Felipe, remember what I said on June first?" Don Alejandro rubbed the boy's shoulder. "Do you remember my telling Don Alfonso that I was committed to teaching you to read, because I didn't want you killed by one of these crates?" Felipe nodded. "If you hadn't been able to read those warnings, you would have been killed!" Felipe shuddered at the thought.

The alcalde nodded agreement. "Instead, Felipe, your new reading and writing skills have not only saved your life, but the lives of others as well, who might otherwise have found these explosives. I'm proud of you, amigo. Well done." He patted Felipe's back.

Shyly, Felipe smiled his thanks again. In his heart, he made up his mind to be a good student, and to learn as much as Don Alejandro, Don Diego, and Señor Spencer could teach him in the years to come.

Don Alejandro watched Felipe sign a question. He knelt before the boy. "Those stray crates that killed the three farmers fell off the thief's wagon; he was in too great a hurry to stop and reload them. Each time one fell out of the wagon, the thief was in a different location. Finally, he saw a patrol of soldiers in the distance and panicked. He stopped to unload and abandon the remaining crates."

Felipe nodded his understanding. That bandit must have been really stupid!

"Well, Felipe--" Don Alejandro lifted the little boy up. "Let's go home, shall we?" Felipe grinned.

He set Felipe on his pony, which Miguel had sent with the vaquero. Minutes later, the two arrived at the hacienda and entered the house.

The butler approached Don Alejandro as he and Felipe entered the drawing room. "A letter for you, patrón. From Don Diego. And there's a box on the dining table." He handed the aged don an envelope as he spoke.

Don Alejandro thanked him and tore open the envelope. He pulled out several pieces of parchment. Felipe wriggled with excitement.

"Well, Felipe, there seem to be two letters!" He chuckled as he glanced through them. "One of them is for you." He handed Felipe one of the letters.

With a broad smile, Felipe held the two-page letter in his hands and gazed at it. "Dear Felipe," it stated, "I promised you I would write you every month, and I shall. This is the first of many letters until I come home. When I arrived in Madrid, I found a long letter from my father waiting for me, bragging about the progress you're making in your studies. By the time you get this letter, I feel certain you'll be able to read it, so I ask for a very big favor of you. Please write to me each month, and tell me everything that's happening in your life and my father's. I love you, Felipe, and I miss you both very much. Your friend, Don Diego."

Felipe glanced up at Don Alejandro; he swallowed a lump in his throat. When Don Alejandro glanced up from his own letter, he gazed at the boy. "Well, Felipe," he said, "in my letter, Diego says he's well and that he's enjoying his studies. He misses us very much, and he thinks about us a lot. It feels wonderful to know that my son arrived safely, and that he's doing so well in his college courses."

Don Alejandro paused to glance at the letter again. "He also says he's sent you a present, Felipe."

Felipe widened his eyes. What present?

Don Alejandro swiveled his head to look toward the entrance hall. "I wonder if the box on the dining table contains your gift? Let's find out, shall we?" The elderly caballero's eyes twinkled.

Felipe raced ahead of Don Alejandro toward the dining room. As he watched, Don Alejandro removed the nails with a hammer and yanked the lid off. Felipe stood on tiptoe to gaze inside.

Inside the crate rested a hand puppet, a toy soldier, a stuffed white bear, a carved wooden horse, and several leather-bound picture books for children. None of them were books Felipe had previously read; all were new. With a broad grin, he lifted the first book out and gazed at it, rubbing his fingers on the soft, blue leather cover.

Don Alejandro smiled at him. "Now, you've got some more stories to read and enjoy, don't you? And some new toys to play with." Felipe nodded. "Felipe, why don't you sit down at my desk and write Diego a thank-you letter? I know he'd appreciate it, and he wants very much to hear from you."

Felipe nodded. Don Alejandro led him toward the desk, where Felipe found some parchment, a gold inkpot, and several goose-quill pens resting on the desk's polished surface. Felipe picked up one, dipped it into the black India ink, and began to write.

He wrote a two-page letter, thanking Don Diego for the toys and books. He described his lessons and explained that he was in the Second Reader. He talked about his chess games with Don Alejandro, his pony, and the stolen crates of explosives. He wrote some of the sentences in Latin.

When Felipe had finished his letter, he gave it to Don Alejandro. The patrón read it silently and smiled. "I'll mail it with mine, Felipe," he told the boy. "Diego will be so pleased to receive it! I haven't written mine yet, but when I do, I'll tell him all about what you did, today, when you found the missing crates. He'll be so proud of you."

Don Alejandro paused. "Amigo, I think that, starting tomorrow, I'll teach you to draw pictures and sculpt statues. I want you to learn about art, to understand and appreciate it. I mean to teach you about its history, too." He paused. "And you know, one of my pinto ponies is getting ready to foal. I think I'll give the foal to you, to raise and to train." Felipe jumped up and down with joy, clapping his hands.

Don Alejandro chuckled at the boy's delight. "Keeping busy really helps, doesn't it? It makes the time pass more quickly, and it keeps us from missing Diego quite so much." Felipe silently agreed. It certainly did.

Don Alejandro whacked the boy's hips. "Well, Felipe, I've got to write a letter to Diego, now, so why don't you take your new toys and books to the kitchen? When I'm finished, I'll send for you, and we'll play a game of chess. You're getting better and better--you actually beat me part of the time, now!" He laughed, and Felipe grinned. "Before I forget, amigo, we're going swimming, tomorrow, you and I."

Felipe jumped up and down with joy again. He loved to swim, and to go fishing and birdwatching. Furthermore, now he would have time to play with the horses again!

He threw his arms around Don Alejandro's waist and planted a kiss on the caballero's cheek. Don Alejandro hugged him back and kissed his forehead.

"All right, my boy, get along with you! Take your presents with you." With a laugh, Don Alejandro whacked the little boy on his behind.

Felipe grinned. He slid off the chair and ran to the kitchen, lugging his new books and toys. He could hardly wait to use them!

THE END

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