Yet as the hole deepened he could not help a certain feeling of pride in it. The sense of possession was a strong trait in him, and this was his well on his homestead. He always felt the same pleasant glow of ownership when he looked at his cabin and his fence, even at his dry cow and his locoed horses, and once he had a well with a curb over it! Wallie always expanded his chest a little as he thought of it.
He made frequent pilgrimages to the well, and as he hung over the edge and called down, Rufus always replied to his inquiry:
"I don't see any indications yet but I look for it to come with a gush when we do strike it."
When they reached sixty-eight feet and there was still no sign of moisture Wallie told Reed that he was willing to abrogate the contract.
"No, sir!" Rufus declared, vigorously. "I've staked my reputation on this well and I'm goin' to keep on diggin'."
At seventy-two feet Wallie was desperate. The hole was still as dry as punk, and boarding the Reeds was nothing less than ruinous; besides, he was nauseated with cooking for three persons whom he detested. They could not be insulted, he discovered, and were determined to make him abide by his contract to board them.
A solution of his problem came in the night with such force and suddenness that he rolled to and fro in his bunk, hugging himself in ecstasy. He longed for morning to put his idea into execution and when it came, for the first time since their arrival, he was delighted to see the Reeds seating themselves at the table.
There were potatoes, bacon, and pancakes, with coffee, for breakfast.
John dubiously eyed the transparent fluid in his cup which might as easily have been tea, and commented: