His homesickness grew worse when Hall brought him a letter from Quiz.
Dear Sandy,
I sure do envy you, out there in God’s country. Things are mighty dull around here, although I do get some time for swimming and tennis, now that Dad is able to hobble around in his cast and help out at the restaurant.
Last Sunday we had a picnic out by the lake. The fishing was swell. And there was a dance at the pavilion afterward. I’m not much for dancing, but I know you like to. Still, you must be having plenty of fun out at the well.
“Fun!” Sandy exploded as he reread that paragraph. He was bathing his blistered feet in the first spring he had found that day and batting at deer flies that seemed determined to eat him alive. Then he read on:
I haven’t forgotten about Cavanaugh. Dad says he’s a lone wolf and that nobody knows much about him. He came here about two years ago, flashed a lot of money around, and built his lab. Joined the Country Club, Rotary, and so on. Impressed a lot of people with his football talk. Makes good equipment and has several research contracts that take him to Washington quite frequently. His employees think he’s a stuffed shirt, too.
I tried to look up his sports record at the library, but the newspapers that should tell about his big game are missing from the files. When Dad gets better, he says I can take a day or two off and see what I can find in the San Francisco library. I’ll let you know. Funny about those newspapers, isn’t it?
Give my regards to the gang. I sure do wish I was there instead of here. As ever, Quiz
After he had finished reading Sandy sat for a long time with his chin in his hands, thinking. The survey wasn’t going well, he knew. Yesterday, Hall and Donovan had paid them a visit and shaken their heads at the map that Ralph and Stack were drawing.
“This isn’t an anticline, John,” the geologist had said. “What we have here is fault that has caused a stratigraphic trap. That is, layers of rock on one side of the fault line have been lifted above those on the other side of the crack by some old earthquake. The slip sealed off the upper end of what may be an oil-bearing layer with the edge of a layer of hard, impervious rock. If you drill here—” he pointed with his pipe stem—“you may hit a small pool. Nothing spectacular, you understand, but it ought to more than pay expenses.”
“I don’t know whether I should take the chance.” Hall had shaken his gray head. “I need something better than this to gamble on, the way things are. Tell you what, Don. There’s going to be a bid session at Window Rock next Monday. Keep the crew working here for a few days longer while I drive down and see if I can shake loose a better lease. Ralph, you’d better come along. I hear that the Navajo and Hopi Councils will have some sort of joint powwow at the Rock and I’ll want you to keep an eye on it. You come along too, Sandy, and bring the ‘ear.’ I have a hunch that a lot of things are about to pop.”
“Will we have room for Kitty?” Ralph asked. “I dropped over to see her after work yesterday and she told me the school is closing Monday and Tuesday because there’s going to be a big Squaw Dance in the neighborhood. She wants to go home and get her best clothes to wear to it. She could drive her own car, of course....”
“Kitty’s good company,” Hall had replied. “I’d be glad to have her along.”
A distant hail jerked Sandy out of his reverie. He put on his shoes, picked up his rod, hammer and compass, and started climbing over jagged rocks to the top of a crumbling low butte that was to be the next survey location. The going wasn’t too bad because one side of the cone had collapsed, thus providing a slope of debris up which he could clamber with fair speed.