“Oh, I hope you don’t think it possible to water our mesa!” she cried. “I told you how it would break up our range.”
“I assure you, I don’t think at all,” he replied. “I’m not a reclamation engineer––never specialized on hydraulics.”
She flashed an odd look at him. “You never? But Mr. Blake––that wonderful engineer of the Zariba Dam––he would know, wouldn’t he?”
“I––suppose he would––that is, if he––” Ashton hesitated, and exclaimed, “But that’s just it!”
“What?” she asked.
“Why, to––to have him come here. He’s the luckiest for blundering on ways to do things,” muttered Ashton. He added with growing bitterness: “Yes, if there’s any way at all to do it, you’d have him flooding your whole range––deluging it. He’s got all those millions to back him.”
“You do not like him,” said the girl. She looked off towards High Mesa, her face glowing with suppressed excitement. “No doubt you are right––as to his ability. But––don’t you see?––if it can be done, it is bound to be done sooner or later. All the time Daddy and I––and Kid, too––are living under this constant dread that it may be possible. But if such an engineer as––as Mr. Blake came and looked 78 over the situation and told us we needn’t fear––don’t you see how––?”
“You don’t mean that you––?” Ashton, in turn, left his question unfinished and averted his face.
“Yes,” she answered. “I’m sure it will be best to put an end to this uncertainty. So I believe I shall send for––for Mr. Blake.”
“But––why for––for him––in particular?” he stammered.