[CHAPTER VII]
THE SPIRIT OF THE JOB
In order to make plain what was taking place at the main camp during Carhart’s absence, we must go back to that evening during which so many things had come up to be disposed of before the chief could leave for Sherman and Crockett and Paradise. To begin with, Dimond came riding in at dusk with a canteen of clear water which he laid on the table about which the engineers were sitting. To Carhart, when he had unscrewed the cap and taken a deep draught, it tasted like Apollinaris. “First rate!” he exclaimed; “first rate!” Then he passed it to Old Van, who smacked his lips over it.
“Where did he find this?” Carhart asked.
“Eighteen or twenty miles ahead.”
“Plenty of it?”
“He thinks so,” he says, “but he’s gone on to find more.”
“Are the Apaches bothering him?”