Part 19 (2/2)

Impressed in spite of himself, Wallie endeavoured to be conservative.

”Could it have been your subconscious mind?” he asked, doubtfully.

”I ain't any. Rufus Reed is right out in the open. I'll stake my reputation there's plenty of water if you'll go after it.”

”It's rather far from the house for convenience,” he objected.

”Water in Wyoming is like whiskey, you have to take it where you can get it and not be particular.”

It was a temptation, and the cost at three dollars a foot was not excessive. Wallie pondered it and said finally:

”You will agree in writing to dig without remuneration until you get water if you do not strike it at sixty-eight feet?”

”An iron-clad contract will suit yours truly,” Mr. Reed declared, emphatically. He added: ”I'll bring two men to work the h'ist and empty the bucket. Of course you'd aim to board us?”

”Why, yes, I can,” Wallie said a little uncertainly. He had not thought of that feature, but he realized it would be necessary.

He had figured that with strict economy he had provisions enough to last him well toward summer. Three men eating three meals daily might make some difference in his calculations, but nothing serious probably.

So the contract was drawn up and signed and Rufus departed, eminently satisfied, as was Wallie, who was so eager to see his well started that he could hardly wait until the following Monday.

In the interim he dreamed of his well of cold, pure water, and every time he made use of his ”toe-holts” he told himself that that inconvenience would soon be eliminated. He meant to have a windmill as soon as he could afford it, for whatever else the country might lack there was no dearth of wind for motive power.

There was something permanent-looking about a well and he chuckled as he speculated as to what Canby would say when he heard of it, and he wished with all his heart that he might be around when Helene Spenceley learned that he was sinking a well on his place for household and stock purposes.

He had taken advantage of the opportunity which the gift of the cake presented to send her a note of thanks and appreciation. In reply he had received an invitation which had stung him worse than if she had written that she never wanted to see him cross her threshold.

His eyes gleamed every time he read it, which was so often that it was worn through the creases from being folded and unfolded:

Dear ”Gentle Annie”:

Won't you stop at the ranch on your way out and pay us a visit?

I presume the middle of the summer at latest will see the last of you as I have no idea that you will be able to go through the discouragements and hards.h.i.+ps attendant upon proving up on a homestead.

My brother also will enjoy meeting you as he has heard so much of you.

Looking for you soon, I am Sincerely, HELENE SPENCELEY.

P.S. I have a new sweater pattern that I am sure will please you.

Every word had a nettle in it, a taunt that made him tingle. It seemed to Wallie he had never known such a ”catty” woman, and he meant to tell her so, some day, when he was rich and successful and had proved how wrong she was in her estimate of him.

He was tempted to send her word, on a postal, anonymously, of the well he was digging if he had not feared she would suspect him. It seemed so long to wait for Pinkey to convey the tidings.

Rufus arrived on Monday morning, and the ”crew” to which he had referred proved to be members of his own family--John and Will--whales as to size, and clownish.

It came to Wallie's mind that if they did not move any faster when they worked than when they were at leisure, the well-digging would be a long process, and his heart sank when he saw them feeding their horses so liberally from the hay which had cost $20 a ton, delivered.

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