such opportunities had slipped away
unimproved, and here was the new railroad superintendent, whom their
bluff neighbor Sinclair never referred to other than as the college
guy, being brought apparently as a prisoner to the Stone Ranch.

Busied with her thoughts, Dicksie rode slowly along the upper trails
until a long _detour_ brought her around the corrals and in at the
back of the house. Throwing her lines to the ground, she alighted and
through the back porch door made her way unobserved to her room. From
the office across the big hall she heard men's voices in dispute, and
she slipped into the dining-room, where she could hear and might see
without being seen. The office was filled with cowboys. Lance Dunning,
standing with a cigar in his hand and one leg thrown over a corner of
the table, was facing McCloud, who stood before him with his hand on a
chair. Lance was speaking as Dicksie looked into the room, and in curt
tones: "My men were acting under my orders."

"You have no right to give such orders," McCloud said distinctly, "nor
to detain me, nor to obstruct our free passage along the right of way
you have agreed to convey to us under our survey."

"Damn your survey! I never had a plat of any such survey. I don't
recognize any such survey. And if your right-of-way men had ever said
a word about crossing the creek above the flume I never would have
given you a right of way at all."

"There were never but two lines run below the creek; after you raised
objection I ran them both, and both were above the flume."

"Well, you can't put a grade there. I and some of my neighbors are
going to dam up that basin, and the irrigation laws will protect our
rights."

"I certainly can't put a grade in below the flume, and you refuse to
talk about our crossing above it."

"I certainly do."

"Why not let us cross where we are, and run a new level for your ditch
that will put the flume higher up?"

"You will have to cross below the flume where it stands, or you won't
cross the ranch at all."

McCloud was silent for a moment. "I am using a supported grade there
for eight miles to get over the hill within a three-tenths limit. I
can't drop back there. We might as well not build at all if we can't
hold our grade, whereas it would be very simple to run a new line for
your ditch, and my engineers will do it for you without a dollar of
expense to you, Mr. Dunning."

Lance Dunning waved his hand as an ultimatum. "Cross wher