After half an hour's riding, the great water-works came into full view. There was a massive, containing-wall of cement, with a pathway along the top, and in the center the trailers could see the machinery used for opening and closing the sluice pipes that fed the irrigation canal. Word was telephoned from the land company's offices in Maguez to the dam-keeper regarding the pressure to be used, and, in accordance with their instructions, he turned on more or less.
At the near side of the dam was a small building in which the dam-keeper made his home. From its roof there extended a pole, from which, to Jack's intense delight, they could see a thin wire stretching off to the north. On that wire now depended so much that Jack almost felt like taking his hat off to it and to the inventor of telephones.
"Geddap!" urged Jim Hicks, cracking his quirt about the haunches of his pack animals. The little cavalcade broke into a brisk trot. The dust spurted from under their rattling hoofs.
"We're coming on in style," laughed Jack, as they came briskly down the last few rods of the trail.
"Don't see old Simmons about," commented Jim Hicks, looking for some sign of the dam-keeper. "Guess he's taking a snooze some place. Hey, Sam! Sam!"
"Here he comes," said Jack briskly, as the door of the dam-tender's hut opened. But the next moment every member of the approaching party gave a gasp of dismay. Jim Hicks spasmodically jerked up his rifle to his shoulder, but instantly lowered it again.
From the door of the hut there had stepped out, not old Sam Simmons, the dam-tender, but—Black Ramon and six of his men!
They held their weapons grimly leveled at Jack Merrill and his companion, while Ramon sharply bade them dismount.
"We have prepared for you what we must call a little surprise party," he said. "Please tie your horses and we will go inside."