won't work enough to earn
their salt? They openly boast that we dare neither make them work
nor fire them. They say Sorenson and his bunch will pull every man off
the works if we lift a finger; and they all know about that fool
promise of the directors. Friendly? Just about as friendly as a
bunch of wildcats. This whole section, white men and Mexicans, are
putting a knife into this project whenever they can. Do you think they
want all that mesa fenced up and farmed? This is a range country;
they propose to keep it range; they don't want any more people
coming here--farmers, store-keepers, and white people generally."

"That's always the case in a range country before it's opened up,"
Weir said. "But they have to swallow the pill."

"Let me tell you something; they don't intend to swallow it here. They
figure on keeping this county just as it is, for only themselves and
their cattle and woolies, and everybody else keep out. The few big
sheep and cattle men, white and Mex, have their minds made up to that,
and they're the only ones who count; all the rest are poor Mexicans
with nothing but fleas, children, goats and votes to keep Sorenson and
his gang in control. They've set out to bust this company, or tire it
out till it throws up the sponge. They've spiked Magney, and they'll
try to spike you next, and every manager who comes. That's plain talk
I'm giving you, Mr. Weir, but it's fact; and if it doesn't sound nice
to your ears, you can have my resignation any minute."

"I've been hoping to hear it. From now on drive this crowd of
coffee-colored loafers. Put the lash on their backs."

A gleam of unholy joy shone in Atkinson's eyes as he heard Weir's
words.

"All right; that goes," he said. "But I'm warning you that they'll
quit. You'll see 'em stringing out of camp for home to-night, and
those who hang out till to-morrow will leave then for sure. By
to-morrow night the dam will be as quiet as a church week-days.
They'll not show up again, either, until you send word for them to
come back--and then they'll know you've surrendered. Magney tried it
once, just once. And that's why you found me chewing tobacco so
lamb-like and saying nothing."

"Turn your gat loose," Weir said. And turning on his heel, he went
back to headquarters.

Before Atkinson fired a volley at the unsuspecting workmen he crossed
the canyon to where a cub engineer was peering through a transit. The
superintendent had overheard a scrap of gossip