“The same.”

“Why did you throw it back?”

“Why did he throw it at me in the first place?  You should train him to use better judgment.  You yourself wouldn’t have done it.”

“No,” Menocal said.  Then, as if the subject were dismissed, he asked, “What do you wish to see me about?”

“About the mortgage on the Stevenson place:  I’ve bought the ranch.  Stevenson moves off in a few days.”

Menocal’s brows lifted and remained so, as if fixed in their new elevation.  He slowly rubbed the end of his nose with his forefinger.  The sleepiness had wholly vanished from his countenance.

“Come into the bank,” he said, finally; and moved toward the front door.

The engineer accompanied him.  In a space railed off from the cashier’s grille in the little building next door they sat down.  The teller was visible in the cage, where now he appeared very busy though he had undoubtedly been drowsing when they entered.

“So you’ve bought the Stevenson ranch,” Menocal said.

“Yes.  I’ve just had the deed recorded.”

“The mortgage is due in a few days; I told him it wouldn’t be renewed by me.”

“Perhaps now that I have the place——­”

“No; I’ve carried that loan long enough.  If it isn’t paid when due, I’ll start foreclosure proceedings immediately.”

Bryant nodded.

“Well, I merely asked out of curiosity,” said he.  “It’s your right to demand payment—­and I’m on hand with the money.  Make out a release so that I can clear the record.  Here’s a Denver draft for six thousand dollars—­I figure principal and interest at five thousand four hundred and you can have the balance placed to my credit in the bank.  I shouldn’t continue the loan at its present rate of interest in any case; eight per cent. is too much for money.  Besides, I want the ranch clear of incumbrance.”

With an expressionless face Menocal gazed at the draft, turned it over, examined the back, then at last laid it down on his desk.

“Isidro,” he called to the teller, “make out a mortgage release for the Stevenson place.  Copy the description from the mortgage in my file in the vault.  Afterward credit six hundred dollars to—­What is your name?”

“Lee Bryant.”

“Six hundred dollars to Lee Bryant, Isidro.  Mr. Bryant will give you his signature.”  Again facing his visitor, he said, “Do you know that that ranch has no water to speak of?  I’m afraid you may not find the property what you expect.”

“It has a good appropriation from the Pinas River here.”

“Ah, but it can’t be used,” Menocal exclaimed, with a bland smile.

“I propose to use it.”

“What!”

Bryant kept his eyes fixed on the amazed banker’s orbs.

“Didn’t I speak clearly?” he inquired.  “I own one hundred and twenty-five second feet of water in this river and it’s my intention to apply it.  I’m going to make a real ranch down there.”