Delay will hang us; taking men off the work will hang us. I've
just got to go tip there myself and see what can be done by talking
to them."
"Talking to them!" Denning snorted. "You might as well whistle down
the draught-pipe of hell! If they're just up there for a row,
there'll be whisky in camp; and you can bet McNeill's got some of
'em instructed on YOUR account. They'll kill you, sure!"
"I agree with you it's risky," replied Orde. "I'm scared; I'm
willing to admit it. But I don't see what else to do. Of course
he's got no rights, but what the hell good does that do us after our
water is gone? And Jim, my son, if we hang this drive, I'll be
buried so deep I never will dig out. No; I've got to go. You can
stay up here in charge of the rear until I get back. Send word by
Charlie who's to boss your division while you're gone."
XXIII
Orde tramped back to Sawyer's early next morning, hitched into the
light buckboard the excellent team with which later, when the drive
should spread out, he would make his longest jumps, and drove to
head-waters. He arrived in sight of the dam about three o'clock.
At the edge of the clearing he pulled up to survey the scene.
A group of three small log-cabins marked the Johnson, and later the
Heinzman, camp.
Pages:
256
257
258
259
260
261
262
263
264
265
266
267
268
269
270
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280