"Well, just let me run a line, anyhow."

"No. Keep off, keep off," was the obstinate answer.

The engineer continued to argue, now as if in anger and now with a
conciliatory mien, all the while protesting that the homesteader must
not prevent the construction of the canal. But he received only shakes
of the head, short replies, and malicious looks. So at length, with
every pretense of disappointment and dejection, he went down the
hillside.

A mile farther along, where he found two more men occupied at similar
labour, he likewise dissembled his purpose, with the same opposition,
controversy, and retreat. He thereupon led Dave back to the ranch
house, where he prepared and ate dinner with satisfaction. Very likely
Menocal would receive reports that evening faithfully depicting his
chagrin and despair, or whatever were the Mexican equivalents.

Yet while he deluded the banker, he must secretly carry on his actual
surveying on the mesa. Since the men setting fence posts had a fairly
wide view of the plain, he determined to work in the open only for two
or three hours at daybreak before the Mexicans were about. For
Menocal, or any one else, must have no suspicion of his real ditch
line until an application for construction of the project had been
filed in the state engineer's office.

Signs that the banker had taken measures to keep him under
surveillance were not wanting.

"Dave," he said, "have you noticed a sheepherder with a bunch of sheep