"Don't you touch that dam!" screamed Len.
"Go on! I order you to tear it away!" said Mr. Carson to his men.
"Whoop!" they yelled in response, and a moment later, flinging themselves from their horses, they swarmed into the water and began the work of destruction.
Dave, Mr. Carson and the engineer looked anxious for a moment, feeling that the Centre O boys might put up a fight. But not a gun was drawn.
Perhaps the cowboys employed by the Molick outfit were disgusted with the tactics of their employer, when they heard the story of the thirst-dying cattle. No true cowboy would countenance that sort of thing. So they looked on idly while the Bar U men tore away the dam.
A little trickle of water came through, flowing down the course from which it had been diverted. Gradually it grew in volume until a gushing stream filled the muddy bed of the stream.
"That's what was needed," murmured Dave. "That will save our cattle."
"Stop it! Let that dam alone!" yelled Len, over and over again. But no one paid any attention to him—not even the cowboys of the Centre O. They only smiled and rolled cigarettes. Perhaps they were glad to see Len beaten.
But the bully and Whitey Wasson were whispering together, and soon they rode off at a gallop.
"They've gone to get the Old Man," said one of the Bar U cowboys.