nt to ask you about the price. Is it fair, or shall I jew old
Braden down a bit? Fancy I could, you know."

"The price is high--as land sells," Angus told him. "You can get good,
wild land now for ten dollars an acre. Five years ago you could have got
it for two dollars, and five years before that for fifty cents."

Chetwood whistled. "In the noble language of the country, I was about to
be stung."

"Well," Angus explained, "if land values keep climbing, it might be a
good investment, after all. I would not say it might not be. But you can
buy just as good land cheaper."

"Then why does Braden ask so much?"

"I suppose he thinks he can get it."

Chetwood grinned. "In the terse vernacular of the land, 'I get you,
Steve.' Shall I offer him ten dollars?"

"That would depend on the water supply."

"Oh, that's absolutely all right. I've seen the government certificate.
Eight hundred miners' inches. That's ample, what?"

"Yes--if you can get it on the land."

"But surely that sort of thing was looked into long ago, when the record
was made."

Angus shook his head. "A water record isn't a guarantee of water. It's
merely a right to take it if you can get it. Water is one thing you
can't take for granted. We have time to run a line to the creek, and see
where we come out. As for the spring here, it wouldn't water more than
ten acres or so."

There is nothing more deceptive, even to the trained eye, than levels in
a broken country. The unaided eye can tell nothing about them. To all
appearances, in many places, water runs up hill. Nothing but the level
can prove whether it can be brought upon any given area.

Starting from the upper end of the block they began to take sights. The
distance to the creek was further than Angus had supposed. They ran into
a broken country where the ground was rocky and less adapted to
ditching. There were sidehills, which are dangerous because they have an
annoying habit of sliding when water-soaked, and gulches which would
necessitate fluming. All the time they drew nearer and nearer to the
base of the round mountain. Unless the line could run around the lower
foot of it the way was barred to water. And finally the line ran into
the base of the hill. There was no going around it. It definitely
settled the question of water. The land, then, was non-irrigable.

"I wonder if that old blighter, Braden, knew this?" Chetwood speculated.

"He might not," Angus replied, though he had his o