ngineer punctiliously. Farwell raised his hat,
and bowed to the girl, but did not offer his hand to Casey Dunne.

"I've heard of you--from York," he said meaningly.

"I've heard that Mr. York has a wonderful memory for faces and names,"
said Casey. "Quite flattering to be remembered by him. I've only met
him once."

"He remembers you very well," Farwell returned dryly.

Sheila McCrae stood by, watching them, hearing the rasp of steel
beneath the apparently casual words. And unconsciously she measured the
men, one against the other.

Farwell was slightly the taller and much the heavier. He created the
impression of force, of dominance. The heavy, square chin, the wide,
firm mouth, the black, truculent eyes beneath heavy brows, all marked
the master, if not the tyrant. His body was thick and muscular, and he
stood solidly, confident of himself, of his position, a man to command.

Casey Dunne was lighter, leaner, more finely drawn. Lacking the
impression of pure force, of sheer power, he seemed to express the
capacity for larger endurance, of better staying qualities, of greater
tensile strength. He was cast in another mould, a weapon of a different
pattern. Farwell might be compared to a battle-axe; Dunne to a rapier.

And being of the battle-axe type Farwell saw no reason to mince matters
with Dunne, whom he looked upon as a leader of the alleged trouble
makers, and therefore directly responsible for his, Farwell's, presence
in that confounded desert.

"No," he said, "York doesn't forget much. And he hears quite a lot,
too. I've come down to finish this dam, and complete the irrigation
ditches, and I'm going to rush the job."

"It's pretty well along, I hear," Dunne commented. "You'll be putting
the finishing touches to it pretty soon. Quite a nice piece of work,
that. You want to be careful of the sidehill ditches, though. They
wash, sometimes."

Farwell was taken aback. There was no hint of insincerity in the
other's tone. It was impersonal, as if he were not at all concerned.

"I'll be careful enough," he returned. He would have liked to tell
Dunne that he was also prepared to take care of any trouble that might
arise, but on second thought he decided to wait for a better opening.
"I'll be plenty careful of a good many things," he added significantly.

"Nothing like it," Dunne rejoined. "Water finds the weak spots every
time. Well, good morning, Mr. Farwell. Glad to see you at my ranch any
time. Ask anyb