“Now don’t get funny,” growled Hall. “You know what we mean.”
“Unfortunately, I don’t,” returned the land agent, quietly.
Irritated by Andy’s calmness, Hall fairly screamed:
“Them kids has been stealing Perkins’ and my water. They got to stop irrigating, and they got to pay us for ruining our crops by stealing our water. They—”
“Simmons made a mistake there—” began Andy, only to be interrupted by Perkins.
“Simmons? Simmons? Who said anything about him? We’re talking about our water rights.”
“Which you would never have thought of if Simmons had not put the idea into your heads. But, as I said, he has made a mistake. The Porter boys are entitled to a certain amount of water, and I know they have not used more than their share because I helped them build their irrigating plant, and I made the sluice of such size that if they irrigated twice a week they would not quite use up their lawful allowance. As it is, they have irrigated only once a week, so, you see, your water rights have not been infringed.”
“But they dammed the stream—they ain’t no right to do that,” stammered Perkins, much of his bravado gone.
“Oh, yes, they have, provided, of course, they do not check the natural flow of the brook except on the days when they are entitled to the water for irrigation purposes.”
“Come on, Jerry. I told you in the first place, Andy was in with ’em,” exclaimed Hall.