“Yes,” he said, “it is wonderful. Centuries of primitive irrigation have furnished the knowledge which has made this dam possible. It is the greatest irrigation scheme ever attempted and I am proud that it is to be my lot to finish it—mighty proud.” His eyes were on the swarming crowd of men, the cable wires humming, the derricks shifting their burdens, all the myriad activities that went to the building of his dam. “It will be a dream fulfilled,” he said almost to himself. Then, suddenly, he knocked the ashes from his pipe and got up. “Come, Bob,” he said. “We must get on the job. We’re not bringing the finish along any quicker by sitting here dreaming of it.”
CHAPTER X
TED HOYT
Two or three Sundays after they had come to the dam, Bob and Jerry found themselves with a day on their hands.
“Come on, Bob, let’s get a couple of horses and ride up into the range country. I hear there are some wonderful ranches farther up country.”
“No,” said Bob. “I’ll stick to the water. I found a canoe and I am just aching to do some paddling. Come on with me.”
“Didn’t you get enough water in the Labyrinth?” laughed Jerry.
“I don’t think I’ll ever get enough water,” returned Bob. “Are you coming?”
“No, I reckon I’ll let you go alone. Me for the high places!”