MR. PELHAM'S GAME-BAG

The _fete champetre_, as President Pelham named it in the
trumpet-flourish of announcement, to celebrate the laying of the final
stone of the great dam at the outlet of Elbow Canyon, anticipated the
working completion of the irrigation system by some weeks. That the
canals were not yet in readiness to furnish water to the prospective
farmer really made little difference. The spectacular event was the
laying of the top-stone; and in the promoter's plans a well-arranged
stage-effect was of far greater value than any actual parcelling out of
the land to intended settlers.

Accordingly, no effort was spared to make the celebration an
enthusiastic success. For days before the auspicious one on which the
guest trains began to arrive from Alta Vista and beyond, the camp force
spent itself in setting the scene for the triumph. The spillway gate,
designed to close the cut-off tunnel and so to begin the impounding of
the river, was put in place ready to be forced down by its machinery;
the camp mesa was scraped and raked and cleared of the industrial
litter; a platform was erected for the orators and the brass band; a
towering flagstaff--this by the express direction of the president--was
planted in the middle of the mesa parade ground; and with the exception
of camp cook Garou, busy with a small army of assistants over the
barbecue pits, the construction force was distributed among the camps on
the canals--this last a final touch of Mr. Pelham's to secure the degree
of exclusiveness for the celebration which might not have been
attainable in the presence of an outnumbering throng of workmen.

In the celebration proper the two engineers had an insignificant part.
When the trains were in and side-tracked, and the working preliminaries
were out of the way, the triumphal programme, as it had been outlined in
a five-page letter from the president to Ballard, became automatic,
moving smoothly from number to number as a well-designed masterpiece of
the spectacular variety should. There were no hitches, no long waits for
the audience. Mr. Pelham, carrying his two-hundred-odd pounds of
avoirdupois as jauntily as the youngest promoter of them all, was at
once the genial host, the skilful organiser, prompter, stage-manager,
chorus-leader; playing his many parts letter-perfect, and never missing
a chance to gain a few more notches on the winding-winch of enthusiasm.

While the band and the orators were alterna