“I have enough to eat and drink,” said he.  “If the paper is good, if you will give me gold for it, then I will wait until I return.  As you say, it’s not so heavy to carry.”

“Bring it to me when you return.  Mr. Menocal is very wealthy, very rich.  He has much land and many sheep.  Besides, he owns a bank full of gold and silver.  The paper is good.”

Alvarez was impressed.  He stood in thought.

“Those sheep and that bank full of money!  In Mexico we would form a company of revolutionists and help ourselves,” he said.

“That isn’t the custom here,” was the reply.

Alvarez again stared at the check, then folded it, bit the edge with his teeth, placed it in a small leather bag suspended under his shirt by a cord about his neck, and returned to the table where Charlie Menocal waited.

“I will go up yonder in a few days, senor,” he stated.  “There are girls there, are there not?”

* * * * *

One day a week later, after Bryant and Dave had returned to Kennard, and after numerous conferences with Mr. McDonnell, his attorney and an engineer called in for consultation, Lee exclaimed to his companion, “We win.  McDonnell will take hold of it.  Bully for him!” And he went about clearing up the odds and ends of business at a great rate.

Moreover, McDonnell believed he could dispose of the bonds within a fortnight, by the middle of September.  That would enable Bryant to make good headway with the dam on the Pinas River while the water was low and before cold weather set in.  The attorney would look after the incorporation of the company and the stock and bond issues.  Lee could at once engage a staff of assistant engineers and arrange to let the building contract.  In the matter of the canal line, he had received ample assurance from members of the Land and Water Board at Santa Fe that the changes he asked would be granted.  Everything was propitious, everything exactly as he would wish.

“Out of those town duds, Dave,” he exclaimed.  “You can’t be a sport any longer.  Back to Perro Creek for us and your new spotted pony.  And it’s high time, too, for I saw you making eyes at that girl with yellow hair and angel blue eyes, whose mamma——­”

“You never did!” Dave yelled, crimson with ire.

CHAPTER XII

October.  And the last golden leaves twirling down from cottonwood and aspen and mountain maple; the lofty brown peaks fresh powdered with snow; the air dazzling, keen, heady like wine; frost a-sparkle of mornings on stone, fence-post, roof, with a rainbow coruscation of diamonds; clear, high moons; marvellous, moonlit nights.