What the mistress said, went. Therefore, the next morning saw a disgusted bunch of cowboys and Indian vaqueros setting to with a will at a spot much nearer the Holding than the Crystal had been, and it took a much shorter time to reach water in a good gravel bed than any one had dreamed.
In three days the thing was done and Conford presented himself, smiling.
“Now, Miss Secrecy,” he said, “come on with th’ mystery.”
Tharon went in to the big desk which Jim Last had used and which was now her own, and returned with a square white slab of pine, elaborately smoothed and finished by José. 57
“Read that,” she said, and held it up, face out.
Printed neatly upon its shining surface, in the jet-black ink that old Anita made from the berries of a certain bush which grew at the foot of the cliffs across the Valley, were these words:
“This well is planted. I hope it blows up the first thief who tries to destroy it. Tharon Last.”
Conford took the slab, scratched his head, holding his hat between thumb and finger, read it over, read it again, smiled, and then looked up.
“Might work,” he said, “an’ you’re givin’ out your stand an’ knowledge broadcast, ain’t you?”
“Certainly am,” said Tharon briefly. “I said I’d fight, an’ I want th’ whole Valley t’ know it.”