Merrick was killing the engine of his runabout. He came across to them, ruddy, strong, well-kept. Every stride expressed the self-reliant and complacent quality of his force.
The girl’s heart beat faster. She had not seen him since that moment, more than two weeks ago, when they had parted in anger. Her resentment against him had long since died. He had not been to blame because they were incompatible in point of view and temperament. It was characteristic of her that she had written to ask him to forgive her if she had in any way done him a wrong. If she could, she wanted to keep him for a friend.
He shook hands with them. Reed asked about the work.
“We’ve finished the tunnel and are laying the line of the main canal between it and the draw where it runs into Elk Creek Cañon. Soon as the ground is thawed out, I’ll have dirt flying on it,” the engineer said.
“Lots of water in the dam?” asked the cowman.
“Full up. The mild weather this last week has raised it a lot. There’s a great deal of snow in the hills. We’ll have no difficulty about a sufficient supply.”
“Good. You’ve got old Jake Prowers beat.”
“Justin has done a big thing for this part of the country. That’s more important than beating Mr. Prowers,” Betty said.
“Yes,” agreed Merrick impersonally. “By the way, the old fellow is still nursing his fancied injuries. He was hanging around the dam yesterday. I warned him off.”
“Say anything?” asked Clint.