"What are the others?" asked Johnny.
Mr. Boise promptly drew a canvas-backed map from his pocket. Mr. Courtney reached for a folding deck chair. Constance helped Mr. Boise spread out the map. Johnny weighted down the corners with a cigar-case, a watch, a pocket-knife and a silver dollar.
"The favorite route at present," pointed out Boise, "is from Marble Bluffs round by Lariat Center, across to Buffalo Canyon and up to Silver Ledge. The other one is right through Eagle Pass."
"That one won't do at all," declared Johnny earnestly.
"It's the shortest," insisted Boise.
"You'd have to tunnel through solid granite," objected Johnny, "and the only traffic you would pick up would be from two or three dead mining towns. In the Sage City and Salt Pool route you would open up a big, rich, farming territory."
"That route is the one I have practically discarded," said Boise. "Right through here," and he put a broad forefinger on the map, "is a large stretch of worthless arid land."
"Yes, I know," admitted Johnny, hitching closer, "but right here"—and he pointed to another place—"is Blue Lake, and with very simple engineering work, which has been begun, it could be brought down to turn that whole district into land rich enough to load your cars with wheat, corn and cattle. Just now that water wastes itself through Buffalo Canyon and doesn't do a pound of work until it hits the big river."
Mr. Boise studied the map reflectively. Mr. Courtney studied it interestedly. Johnny studied it eagerly. Constance, with her hands folded in her lap, looked on with puzzled wonder.
"Why, there's the S. W. & P.!" she exclaimed, as she discovered the letters along a graceful black line.