The Spokane press. [volume] (Spokane, Wash.) 1902-1939, 1908-07-20

trust and give h!s-Mr Wheelock's
land more water than he was en-
titled to, in times of drouth. And
| then he threatened him with ex-
posure, to make him keep on doing
that.
"He threatened me with ia
theirs shame if it came out All!
you'll not violate my confidence,
Mr.. RANDI"
"Never!" Rand promised, fer
vently.
And made me promise to marry
, him toto shield father 1t was
terrible; but what could l do?"
She turned a tear-stained face to
Rand, pleadingly. Almost uncon-
ciously Rand's hand closed upon
hers, that rested upon the pommel
of the saddle.
poor little woman!" he whis-
pered.
She did not seem to be aware of
that handclasp. At least. she did
not resent 1t. And Rand dared
permit it to remain.
"Then my father fell sick and
had to take his place, staying in
Nampa and sleeping at the bunga.
low in there all the time. Mr..
Wheelock tried to make me con.
tinue giving his land-not yours
only his-a greater allowance OF
water than he paid for, and II re-
| fused. | simply couldn't bring my
self to do it, no matter what the
consequences. He begged me tc
give him key, so that he might
steal it without my knowledge, But
that was only bubble. OF course
| refused.
"The night you found me over
there, in the road, he had set one
of his men-a Chinaman-to the
task Of robbing me of the keys
About half an hour before you
came along | imagine, the man shot
my horse. 1t was dark, and
couldn't see his face clearly
Il know that Chinaman!" said
Rand. ITS luck for him that he
has left Nampa!"
And I didn't faint at first. My
foot was caught, you remember
and couldn't get away, but | held
him off with my revolver until the
sound of your horses hoofs fright
ened him. Then | put my revolver
away, because | didn't want anyone
to know about it, for fear they
would suspect Mr.. Wheelock, and
that the whole business would
come out. Then l must have faint
ed. 1t was silly of me, know, but
it was very terrible, Mr.. Rand"
Il don't see that it was anything
but natural argued Rand. "Your
endurance has its limits. | only
wish I'd known at the time. This
thing"-he indicated the mountains
and the dynamited reservoir with
a wave of his hand-"would never
have happened"
"Ah! but | wish | had told you!
she protested. Anything would
be better than this awful disaster
You, who are new to his land
can't imagine what it means tc
my people to be without water
Mr.. Rand Their farms will die
| go back to desert-and they'll have
to give up the struggle
| She broke off, sobbing; her sym
pathy for "her people," and hel
over-strained nerves were provins
too much for her composure. Rant
Unanswered and obtained possess
sion of the other hand; it rested
in his broad palm very comfort
ably
But he said, "they won't have
to do without water very long"
1t was the surest comfort he
could have offered her. She looked
at him, startled. yet hopeful; some
how, he had managed to inspire
her with confidence in whatever
he might say.
"Not for long" she gasped, in
credulously.
mot for long" he repeated
What my father. at the start OF
his fortunes, dared risk here, can
do. who have inherited his money
and know that the profits are meal
culable. More than that. | will dc
it.
"You wait and see. Within two
weeks therell be an army Of work
,,.au H. Doca..o,., ...u@..