Reluctantly his companion obeyed, but as they reached the door, Perkins turned.
“This ain’t the last of the matter, not by a long shot. We want our water—and we’re going to get it.”
In silence the friends of the young homesteaders watched the two angry settlers mount and ride away.
“Looks like trouble for the Porters,” commented Chester. “Wish the women folks hadn’t come out so soon. What you going to do?”
“Ride over to E 1, and then ‘feel out’ the other settlers. It is evident Simmons has a hand in the business. If I can only get proof of that fact from some of the neighbours, I will soon put an end to this ‘water rights’ talk.”
The Porters were at supper when the land agent and the fire lookout arrived and, quietly putting up their horses, they entered the house.
“Hello, folks. Want some mail?” he asked, and in response to the eager hails, he handed several letters to Mrs. Porter.
“Here’s a letter for you, Phil, from Boscow: the rest are for the girls.”
“Wonder what is going on in Weston,” said Ted, but Sallie and Margie refused to open their letters until Phil read the report from the experiment station. It began:
We have read your letter and examined the specimens of soil with interest. If one of our experts had inspected your section and advised you as to what crops to plant, he could not have made a better selection.