Part 12 (1/2)
”When you put me first and the ca.n.a.l second, why, who knows what I may think then?” she said, tantalizingly. ”But to esteem an irrigation ditch before me, the idea! What if you had to choose between us?” And she continued thus to tease him, fanning the fires hotter in his breast.
By the end of August Bryant had completed the survey of the ca.n.a.l line down to a point where it touched the northern boundary of the ranch, tapping the latter's system of distributing ditches. Pinas River, Perro Creek, and the tract to be watered were thus united. Though later, doubtless, it would be necessary to make minor corrections, as always, the surveying was finished. One tracing showed the entire irrigation scheme from the dam on the Pinas to the tips of the laterals branching out in a gridiron over the land. There were other tracings, too, on a larger scale and of successive sections, ready to be taken to Kennard in order to make blueprints.
”Town for us to-morrow, Dave,” Lee exclaimed one day, as he rolled and tied his maps in a waterproof canvas. ”We're due for a rest; our job is done for the present. We'll leave the instruments and note-books with the girls at Sarita Creek, who've agreed to keep them until we return. The Mexicans are still hanging around.”
Toward the middle of the afternoon they appeared at the cabins, where they disengaged d.i.c.k from his burden of freight and turned him out to graze. Imogene was nursing an obstinate headache in her darkened bedroom, and Dave immediately settled himself under a tree with a novel of the girls'. So Ruth and Lee were left to themselves.
”I'm going up the creek to gather raspberries, and you came just in time to carry the basket,” said she. ”I discovered a large thicket of them half way up the canon; the more you pick, the more you'll have for supper to-night. And if you don't bring Imo and me a box of chocolates, and a big box, when you come back from wherever you're going to-morrow, you need never show your lean brown face again at our doors! I'm dying for some. Oh, Lee, I really am. They help so when one's lonely.”
The pathetic tone in which she uttered the final words sent Bryant off in a fit of laughter.
”You may count on them,” he said, at length.
”Your heart's of stone to laugh like that. Bonbons _do_ help when one is low-spirited.”
Nevertheless, her spirits were high enough on this afternoon. All the while that they were gathering raspberries she kept up a lively chatter, and when Lee suggested, now that the basket was full, leaving it at the spot and making an excursion to the head of the gorge, she readily a.s.sented. The sun was still far from setting; the air between the rocky walls was pleasant; and the canon held forth a fresh enticement. They walked for an hour, and though they failed to gain the end of the long mountain crevice they ascended to where the springs that fed the brook had their source, and where the rivulet trickled over ledges and among boulders, finding themselves in the heavy timber that forested the upper mountains. There they sat on a rock, Ruth holding the wild flowers she had plucked on the way, and talked.
”Does your going now have to do with your project?” she questioned.
”Yes; I've finished the preliminary work.”
”But Charlie Menocal said you were making no progress, that you were blocked.”
”What Charlie doesn't know would fill lots of s.p.a.ce,” Lee said. ”In spite of the Menocals' opposition and tricks, I've established my survey--but don't breathe it yet! And now I'm ready for the financing of the scheme. When that's done, I'll begin actual work.”
Ruth considered him with s.h.i.+ning eyes.
”I'm glad you succeeded; I knew you would succeed,” she exclaimed.
”You've worked so hard. And I hope that it makes you famous and wealthy.”
”So do I,” he laughed. ”I need the money.”
She nodded.
”One needs money to be happy in this world.”
”Oh, I don't know about that,” he responded, thoughtfully. ”I've probably been as happy while hammering out this survey as I'll ever be, that is, happy in my work. Of course, money means comforts and luxuries. But I doubt if it really ever brings contentment.”
The obstinate touch grew in her chin.
”If I had plenty of money I'd have the contentment, or I'd soon find it,” she declared. ”Pretty clothes, and fine furniture, and automobiles, and servants, and parties, and so on, are things--at least with women--that go a long way toward satisfaction. I sometimes don't blame girls who marry rich old men; they can put up with them for the pleasures their money will procure.”
”Ruth, Ruth, don't utter such nonsense! At any rate, you've too much common sense ever to waste yourself on a doddering money bags.”
”I'll never have the chance,” said she. ”But if I had, I'd think it over carefully. A young man with money I could be especially nice to, and I might even set out to catch him. You see, I'm quite frank and open about it.”
”Nonsense,” he repeated. ”You'd marry no one just for his money.”
”That depends whether or not he caught me at a moment when I was feeling sick of everything and reckless. Look at my hands, all calloused from work. If I have to work, I shall do it for myself; not marry to work.”