The banker smiled.  “You are entitled to the water, of course; and I admire your grit.  But those men are powerful.  I have to depend on them a great deal.  So you can see that I couldn’t do anything without first consulting them.”

Sanderson left Lazette in disgust.  It was not until after he had tried in Dry Bottom and Las Vegas that he realized how subtle and far-reaching was the power and influence of the financial rulers of Okar.

“We should like to let you have the money,” the Las Vegas banker told him.  “But, unfortunately, a loan to you would conflict with our interests in Okar.  We know the big men in Okar have been considering the water question in the basin, and we should not like to antagonize them.”

The trip consumed two weeks, and Sanderson returned to the Double A to discover that during his absence very little work had been done.

“It looks like we’re up against it,” Williams informed him when pressed for an explanation.  “We can’t get a pound of material.  I went personally to Okar and was told by Silverthorn that the railroad would accept no material consigned to the Double A ranch.”

“Pretty raw,” was Sanderson’s only comment.

“Raw?  It’s rotten!” declared Williams.  “There’s plenty of the kind of material we want in Lazette.  To get it here would mean a fifty-mile haul.  I can get teams and wagons in Lazette,” he added, an eager note in his voice.

“Go to it,” said Sanderson.

Williams smiled admiringly.  “You’re game, Mr. Man,” he said; “it’s a pleasure to work for you!”

However, it was not courage that impelled Sanderson to accept the hazard and expense of the fifty-mile haul.  In his mind during the days he had been trying to borrow money had been a picture of the defeat that was ahead of him if he did not succeed; he could imagine the malicious satisfaction with which his three enemies would discuss his failure.

Inwardly, Sanderson was writhing with impatience and consumed with an eagerness to get into personal contact with his enemies, the passion to triumph had gripped his soul, and a contempt for the sort of law in which Okar dealt had grown upon him until the contemplation of it had aroused in him a savage humor.

Okar’s law was not law at all; it was a convenience under which his three enemies could assail the property rights of others.

Outwardly, Sanderson was a smiling optimist.  To Mary Bransford he confided that all was going well.

Neither had broached the subject of Sanderson’s impersonation since the night of Dale’s visit.  It was a matter which certain thoughts made embarrassing for Mary, and Sanderson was satisfied to keep silent.

But on the day that Williams left the Double A for Lazette, Mary’s curiosity could not be denied.  She had conquered that constraint which had resulted from the revelation of Sanderson’s identity, and had asked him to ride to the top of the gorge, telling him she wanted him to explain the proposed system of irrigation.