Part 3 (1/2)

CHAPTER IV

IH WHICH A MAN IS SYMPATHETIC

It was shortly after noon when Sanderson, urging Streak to the crest of an isolated excrescence of earth surrounded by a level of sage and cactus, saw within several hundred yards of him a collection of buildings scattered on a broad plain that extended back several hundred yards farther until it merged into the rock-faced wall of a b.u.t.te that loomed upward many feet.

Sanderson halted Streak on the hilltop to glance around. The buildings, evidently, belonged to the Double A ranch, and the country was all the Drifter had claimed for it.

The big stretch of plain--in fact, the entire basin--could be made fertile by the judicious use of water. Sanderson was not an engineer, but he had sufficient natural knowledge of land to enable him to distinguish good land from bad. Besides, near Phoenix he had inspected a gigantic irrigation project, and had talked long with the engineer in charge, and he had learned many things that would not have interested the average cowpuncher.

There was a break in the wall of the b.u.t.te south of the group of buildings, and out of the break Sanderson could see water tumbling and splas.h.i.+ng from one rock ledge to another until it rushed down, forming quite a large stream as it struck the level and swirled hurriedly between two sloping banks near the buildings.

From where Sanderson sat on Streak he could look far back into the break in the b.u.t.te. The break made a sort of gorge, which widened as it receded, and Sanderson suspected the presence of another basin beyond the b.u.t.te--in fact, the Drifter had told him of the presence of another basin.

”She'd make some lake, if she was bottled up!” was Sanderson's mental comment after a long examination.

His gaze became centered upon the buildings and the level surrounding them.

The buildings were ordinary, but the country was rugged and picturesque.

Some foothills--which Sanderson had seen from the far side of the basin that morning--rose from the level toward the south, their pine-clad slopes sweeping sharply upward--a series of gigantic land waves that seemed to leap upward and upward toward the higher peaks of some mountains behind them.

Northward, fringing the edge of the plain that began at the foothills and stretched many miles, were other mountains; eastward the b.u.t.te extended far, receding, irregular, its jagged walls forming a barrier; southwestward stretched the basin, in a gentle slope that was more noticeable to Sanderson now than it had been while he had been riding during the morning.

The land around the buildings was fertile, for here was water which could be utilized. The land over which Sanderson had been riding all morning, though, was not so fertile; it needed the water that the stream splas.h.i.+ng out of the gorge could give it, with proper human manipulation.

All morning Sanderson's thoughts had dwelt upon the serious lack of water in the basin. Now his thoughts grew definitely troubled.

”There's goin' to be h.e.l.l here--if this thing ain't handled right. The Double A has got lots of water. The other fellows will be wantin' it.

They've got to have it.”

Sanderson finished his inspection of the place. Then he spoke to Streak, and the big brown horse descended the slope of the hill, struck the level, and cantered slowly toward the ranch buildings near the river.

Sanderson urged the brown horse toward the largest building of the group, and as he rode he straightened in the saddle, rearranged his neckerchief and brushed some of the dust from his clothing--for at this minute his thoughts went to the girl--whom he now knew he had come to see.

Sanderson no longer tried to delude himself. A strange reluctance oppressed him, and a mighty embarra.s.sment seized him; his face grew crimson beneath the coat of tan upon it, and his lungs swelled with a dread eagerness that had gripped him.

”I reckon I'm a d.a.m.n fool!” he told himself as he forced Streak onward; ”I'm comin' here, not knowin' why, but still a-comin'.” He grinned, mirthlessly, but went forward.

Heading toward the ranchhouse, he pa.s.sed a huge building--the stable.

Swinging wide around one of its corners, he was about to ride onward toward the ranchhouse, when out of the corners of his eyes he saw some men and horses grouped in front of the stable.

He pulled Streak up with a jerk, swung the animal's head around and faced the group. There were five horses, saddled and bridled, standing in front of the stable. Sanderson's eyes noted that in one swift glance. But it was upon a man that Sanderson's gaze centered as Streak came to a halt.

The man dominated. There were other men standing in front of the stable--and two women. But the man upon whom Sanderson's gaze rested was the compelling figure.

He was big--rugged, muscular, ma.s.sive. He saw Sanderson at about the instant Sanderson saw him, and he faced the latter, his chin thrusting, his lips pouting, his eyes gleaming with cold belligerence. He wore a gray woolen s.h.i.+rt, open at the throat, revealing a strong, wide chest.

He was a tawny giant, exuding a force and virility and a compelling magnetism that gripped one instantly. It affected Sanderson; the sight of the man caused Sanderson's eyes to glow with reluctant admiration.

And yet Sanderson disliked the man; he know instantly that this was Alva Dale, concerning whom the Drifter had spoken; and the glow died out of Sanderson's eyes and was replaced by the steady gleam of premeditated and deliberate hostility.

For an instant there was no word spoken; the glances of the two men met, crossed, and neither man's eyes wavered.