ble signs of greatness, yet at
his nod Wall Street trembled. He had done more to change the map of
industrial America than any other man, alive or dead. Wherefore, big
Beauchamp Lee, mayor of Mesa, and the citizens on the reception committee
did their very best to impress him with the future of the country, as they
motored out to the dam.

"Most promising spot on earth. Beats California a city block on oranges
and citrons. Ever see an Arizona peach, Mr. West? It skins the world," the
big cattleman ran on easily.

The financier's eye took in the girl sitting beside the chauffeur in the
front seat, and he nodded assent.

Melissy Lee bloomed. She was vivid as a wild poppy on the hillsides past
which they went flashing. But she had, too, a daintiness, a delicacy of
coloring and contour, that suggested the fruit named by her father.

"You bet we raise the best here," that simple gentleman bragged
patriotically. "All we need is water, and the Lincoln dam assures us of
plenty. Yes, sir! It certainly promises to be an Eden."

West unlocked his lips long enough to say: "Any country can promise. I'm
looking for one that will perform."

"You're seeing it right now, seh," the mayor assured him, and launched
into fluent statistics.

West heard, saw the thing stripped of its enthusiasm, and made no comment
either for or against. He had plenty of imagination, or he could never
have accomplished the things he had done. However, before any proposition
appealed to him he had to see money in the deal. Whether he saw it in this
particular instance, nobody knew; and only one person had the courage to
ask him point-blank what his intentions were. This was Melissy.

Luncheon was served in the pleasant filtered sunlight, almost under the
shadow of the great dam.

On the way out Melissy had sat as demure and dovelike as it was possible
for her to be. But now she showed herself to be another creature.

Two or three young men hovered about her; notable among them was a young
fellow of not many words, good-humored, strong, with a look of power about
him which the railroad king appreciated. Jack Flatray they called him. He
was the newly-elected sheriff of the county.

The great man watched the girl without appearing to do so. He was rather
at a loss to account for the exotic, flamelike beauty into which she had
suddenly sparkled; but he was inclined to attribute it to the arrival of
Flatray.

Melissy sat on a flat rock beside West, sw