ery little. It
seemed to her that in his fear lest the secret of his dismissal escape
him, he had gone into himself and shut the door even against her.

They did not speak again of watching Sara, but Pen knew that no mail
left their tent, no visitor came and went without surveillance. If Sara
knew of this, he made no comment. In fact, he did very little now save
smoke and stare idly out the door.

Reports of Jim's campaign reached Pen quite regularly, however. Oscar
was a very steady source of information.

"He don't say much, you know, and that's what makes a hit," Oscar told
Pen and Jane. "For instance, he went over to old Miguel's ranch.
Miguel's one of the fellow's been accusing the Boss of raising the cost
of the dam so's he could steal the money. Boss, he found old Miguel
looking over his ditch that's over a hundred years old. And the Boss, he
says as common as an old shoe:

"'Wish I owned the place my fathers built a hundred years ago, Senor
Miguel.'

"Miguel, he had had his mind made up for a fight, but started off
telling the Boss about old Spanish days in the valley and the Boss, he
sits nodding and smoking Miguel's rotten cigarettes and smiling at him
sort of sad and friendly like until old Miguel he thinks the Boss is the
only man he ever met that understood him. After two straight hours of
this, the Boss he says he'll have to go, but he wishes old Miguel would
come up and spend the day and dine with him. Says he's got some serious
problems he'd like old Miguel's opinion on. And old Miguel, he follows
us clear out to the main road, where we left the machine, and he tells
the Boss his house is his and his wife and his daughters and sons are
his and his horses and cattle are his and that he will be glad to come
up and show him how to build the dam."

"Mrs. Flynn says he's having some farmer up to supper nearly every
night," said Jane. "Oscar, how comes it you always speak of Mr. Manning
as the Boss, now? You never would call any other man that?"

Oscar squared his big shoulders. "He's the only man I ever met I thought
knew more than I do. You ought to hear the things he can tell you about
dam building. And he's full of other ideas, too. A lot of what you folks
put down as stuckupedness is just quietness on his part while he thinks.
I'm trying to pound that into these bullheaded ranchers round here. I
tell 'em how to make sand-cement, for instance, and then ask 'em if a
fellow didn't have to keep his mo