eposterous, but if you see the
slightest chance of success I want you to say so. Dirt moving is your
game, not mine. Ninety days; that's thirteen weeks. Almost a mile a
week. Can it be done? Can you do it?"

Pat at last threw away the cigar that refused to draw.

"With men and teams enough I could build a ditch to tide-water in that
time," said he, with sudden energy. "Men and scrapers, scrapers and
men--that's all. You can rip the insides out of any dirt job on earth
if you have the crews. Of course, it takes money, big wages, to get
and hold them."

"Money! What do I care for that if we build the canal? How much more
will it take? How much will you need?"

"Say twenty thousand more."

"Get out your pencil and begin figuring it."

"I don't need a pencil," Carrigan answered. "I haven't been moving
dirt for fifty years without figures sticking to my hair. I've
digested your blue-prints and know what's to come out of the ground.
Now I'll tell you what it would be if there was no frost in the
ground, as in summer--and we'll afterward allow for the frost; and
what's necessary in men, horses, fresnos, shacks, horsefeed, food,
clothes, and general supplies."

And thereupon Carrigan began to pour forth a stream of data so exact,
so comprehensive, so full, that Bryant listened in astonishment. All
carried in his head, ready for use!

"I hope I know my business at your age as you know yours," Lee
exclaimed.

"You will, or ought to. I've paid for what I know in mistakes and
miscalculated jobs, as does every man some time or other--paid in hard
cash. What he learns is all he gets out of losses. Now, the figures I
gave were for summer work; winter dirt moving is another kind of
animal. Work is slower, men are harder to keep, weather is generally
bad."

"This autumn has been later than usual, and it may last," said Lee.

"And it may not," Carrigan stated, emphatically. "It's that that
worries me about this thing. As it is, the ground freezes on top every
night. Let the thermometer make a low drop, and we won't be able to
stick a plow-point into it anywhere."

"There's no moisture to speak of in the soil of the mesa."

"Enough to freeze the dirt, just the same," said Pat.

"We can leave the dam out of consideration."

"Yes; no trouble about finishing that. And your concrete work, Lee,
won't lose you any sleep. A carload of cement from here, gravel from
the river, and a dozen Kennard carpenters to knock together ga