"Better than money, in this part of the world." Jerry's eyes narrowed. "Did you know about the water when you bought the valley?"
Merklos smiled again. He was bare-headed, dressed in dark trousers and a loose, short-sleeved blouse. His neck and muscular forearms gleamed bronze in the sunlight. "You like what we do here?" he asked in his deep, hesitant manner.
"You've done wonders," Watson said shortly.
Merklos' smoky eyes held Jerry's. "My people are used to work."
Slowly, significantly, Watson said, "The thing we don't understand is how you managed to bring so much equipment. The exact things you needed—right down to the last nail."
Merklos' inscrutable gaze swung around. The smile lingered on his face. "We are a careful people. We plan a long way ahead."
Watson opened his mouth for another question—and shut it. Merklos' attention had left them. The man was listening, his head slightly cocked. After a moment he turned. "I am happy to see you making a visit. I hope you come again." He nodded and walked swiftly away.
Wordlessly, Jerry and the sheriff got back in the car. "Could you hear what he was listening to?" Jerry muttered.
"I didn't hear a thing."
"Notice anything else about Dark Valley?"