with you?"

"I'm fairly busy," Farwell replied grimly, "thanks to the actions of
some persons who imagine themselves unknown."

Casey Dunne lit a cigar and held the match in his hand till the flame
touched his fingers. He spoke through the ensuing greater darkness:

"I heard that your dam wasn't holding very well."

"Not very well," Farwell agreed, struggling with his temper. "Perhaps
you _heard_ that it was dynamited?"

"I think I've heard most of the rumours," Dunne responded calmly.

"I have no doubt of that," Farwell observed with meaning.

"Great country for rumours," Casey went on. "Somebody always knows your
inmost thoughts. Your intentions are known by others before you know
them yourself. You are no exception, Mr. Farwell. The mind readers are
busy with you. No action you might take would surprise them. They are
quite ready for anything."

"I may surprise these wise people yet," said Farwell. "I suppose they
counted on depriving our lands of water by destroying our dam?"

"That's certainly an original way of putting it," said Casey. "Well?"

"Well, they didn't foresee that, though our permanent work is wrecked,
and will take time to rebuild, we would put in a temporary wing of
logs, brush, and sand which would give us a partial supply."

"No, they didn't foresee that, likely," Casey admitted. "This wing dam
of yours is quite an idea. By the way, I'm not getting enough water
now, myself. Couldn't you get along with less than you are taking?"

"No," Farwell returned shortly.

"These wise people thought you could or would," said Casey, and,
turning to Sheila, asked for her father. A few minutes afterward he
strode off in search of him.

Farwell endeavoured to pick up the broken thread of conversation with
Sheila. But this proved difficult. She was preoccupied; and he himself
found Dunne's concluding words sticking in his memory. Did they hide a
sinister meaning? He disliked Dunne heartily, and he was jealous of him
besides, without having any definite cause; but he no longer underrated
him.

On his way to camp he turned the problem over and over in his mind, but
could make nothing of it, unless the words foreshadowed an attempt on
the temporary dam. But there seemed to be little chance for the success
of such an undertaking. Big acetylenes flared all night by the
makeshift structure, and two men with shotguns watched by it. The whole
camp was under almost martial law.

Farwell walked down to the