ewhere over west. We'll be
gone probably all the rest of the afternoon, and there'll be no one to
show you the ditch and what's wrong with it."

"Oh, I'll find out what's wrong and straighten out the trouble," the
engineer replied. "You've a spade or shovel, I suppose? Go right ahead
with your exploring expedition and don't worry about me; the ditch
will be working properly when you return."

"Well, if you don't really need us----"

"Not in the least," was his assurance.

She still hesitated, while her look travelled from Bryant to Menocal
and back again. To the engineer that inclusive regard indicated that
her mind was less concerned with the garden ditch than with a
comparison of her two visitors; and with a sudden feeling of warmth
about his neck Bryant admitted to himself that he presented no
attractions. He wore laced boots, soiled khaki trousers and flannel
shirt, with his hat pulled over one eye against the sun; Menocal was
dressed in light gray clothes, thin and cool, low white shoes, a pale
pink silk shirt (trust a Mexican for colour somewhere!) a vivid
rose-hued scarf, and a white cap. To further emphasize the contrast,
Bryant led a loaded horse and a gangling boy, while Charlie Menocal
leaned at ease against his twin-six. Quite a difference, for a fact.
And it was plain that Ruth Gardner noted it with discrimination.

Imogene Martin now spoke.

"I don't think I'll go, Ruth. I've not been feeling well the last day
or two, as you know, and I'm afraid to risk the sun."

"Oh, come on, Imo. The ride will do you good," her friend replied,
with a trace of impatience.

"No, I told Mr. Menocal when he proposed the expedition that I doubted
if I should go."

"Too bad not to come, Miss Martin," that worthy remarked, without
enthusiasm. Clearly his interest in what company he should have did
not point toward her.

"I'm going, at any rate," Ruth Gardner said. And then, "Oh, dear! I
overlooked altogether introducing you you two gentlemen."

Bryant was human; the opportunity was one he could not let pass. So
smiling broadly he said:

"We've met before, haven't we, Menocal? At Perro Creek ford." And
receiving no response but a scowl, he spoke at large, "Well, I must
get busy if I'm to save those beans."

He led Dick, with Dave at his side, toward the garden on open ground
below the trees, where the bean vines were already turning yellow for
lack of water. He chuckled as he went, for the disappearance of
Cha