twenty-four hours in Bat Truxton's shoes. He would forget the date
which had been marked in red numerals since his first talk with Tommy
Garton; he would not think once of the first day of October. He would
have everything in readiness upon the twenty-fifth day of September.

He knew that the water would at first run slowly through the dry
canals, that the thirsty soil would drink up the first of the precious
gallons, that he must allow himself those five days in order that he
play safe. And now that he had seen the scope of the work to be done,
now that he felt that he could manage without the auxiliary dam until
after the first of October, that the two dams here on Deep Creek and
Indian Creek would give him enough water to keep to the terms of the
contract, he believed that he would have everything in readiness by
the twenty-fifth of September.

For this he had hoped, at first half heartedly; for this he was now
working. Besides the inducements he had offered his men he now
promised them a wage of once and a half for overtime. That meant that
from the first light of morning until dark, with often less than an
hour off at noon, they worked day after day. They fought with the
uneven bed of the stream, they fought with great boulders, until their
arms ached in their sockets and their scanty clothing was drenched
with sweat. Conniston, while he urged them on to do all that was in
them, marveled that they did not break down under the strain.

Nor did he spare himself. Many a night during the swift weeks which
followed he had no more than three or four hours' sleep.

Until the Lark yelled to his men to "knock" off at night, Conniston
labored with them. Then, when they had rolled heavily into their
blankets, he more than once had saddled his horse and ridden down
along the foothills across the stretch of sand and to Valley City to
advise with Garton, to learn how the work was going there, to plan and
order for the days to follow. He grew gaunt and nervous and
hollow-eyed. Heavier and heavier the load of his responsibility rested
upon his shoulders. Nearer and nearer came the end of the time
allotted to him, and always the things still to do loomed ahead of him
like mountains of rock. He went for two weeks without shaving, and
scarcely realized it. His hands grew to be like the hands of his men,
torn and cut and blackened with dirt ground into the skin. His boots
were in strips before he thought of another pair; his clot