The circle banner. [volume] (Circle, Mont.) 1914-1939, 1916-06-02
CHAPTER II-Continued.


his laundering fish cartridge would
raise the neighbors," the trail climber
went on with stout mans chuckle.
And then: You're one of the reclama-
ton engineers? Great work the gov
eminent is undertaking here. You
are connected with it, aren't your"
Brouillard's nod was for the man,
but his words were for the young
woman whose beauty refused to be
quenched by the touring handicaps.
Eyes, am in charge of it," he said.
Hal" said the stout man, and this
time the exclamation was purely ap-
probative. "Chief engineer, Ell? That's
fine, fine! My name is Cartwright
J. Wesley Cartwright of Chicago. And
yours is-?"
Brouillard named himself in one
word. Strangers usually found him
bluntly unresponsive to anything like
effusiveness, but he was finding it Gu
Is riously difficult to resist the good
natured heartiness which seemed to
exude from the laxative gentleman,
OVERLAPPING him like the honeydew on
the leaves in a droughty forest.
If Mr. J.. Wesley Cortwright's sur
prise on hearing the Brouillard sur
name was not genuine it was at least
an excellent imitation.
"Well, well, well-you don't say!
Not of the Brouillards Of Knox county
Indiana?-but, of course, you must be-"
YES" said Brouillard. Our branch
of the family settled near Vincennes,
and my father was on the bench, when
he Wasn't in politics."
What? Not Judge Antoine! Why,
my dear young man! Do you know
thatI once had the pleasure Of intro
duclrg your good father to my bank
ersstn Chicago? It was years ago, at
q time when he was interested in float
ing a. bond issue for some growing in
dustfys down on the Wabash. And to
think that away out here in this howl
ing wilderness, thousand miles from
nowhere, as you might say, 1 should
meet his son!"
Brohillard laughed and fell headlong
into the pit of triteness.
1.-THE world isn't so very big when
you come to surround it properly, Mr..
Cortwyight," he asserted.
"You are wondering what fool no.
ton chased us away out here in the
desert when we had comfortable no.
tel to stop at" he ratified on. "I'll
tell you, Mr.. Brouillard-in confidence
1t was. curiosity-raw, country curios-
lty. The papers and magazines have
y.oos, %S,1J of P11olclyir, rao1o +;~..,
scheme, and we wanted to see the
place where all the wonderful miracles
we're going to get themselves wrought
out. Have you got time to put us
next""
Brouillard, as the son of the man
who had been introduced to the Chi
cago money gods in his hour Of need,
could scarcely dc less than to take the
time. The project, he explained, con-
templated the building of high dam
across the upper end of the Niquoia
canyon and the converting of the in
land valley above into a great storage
reservoir. From this reservoir series
of distributing canals would lead the |
water out upon the arid lands of the |
Buckskin and the miracle would be a |
fact accomplished.
Sure, sure!" said the cheerful quer-
list, feeling in the pockets of the au-
tomobile coat for a cigar At the |
match-striking instant he remembered |
4 thing neglected. "By George! you'll |
have to pardon me, Mr.. Brouillard; I'm
always forgetting the little social dew
dabs. Let me present you to my
daughter Genevieve. Gene, shake
hands with the son OF my good old
friend, Judge Antoine Brouillard of
Vincennes."
1t was rather awkwardly done, and
somehow Brouillard could not help
fancying that Mr.. Cartwright could
have done it better. But when the
unquenchable beauty stripped her
gauntlet and gave him her hand, with
I dazzling smile and a word Of &C
which was not bor-
rowed from her. fathers ELUSIVE vo-
cabulary, he straightway fell into an
pther pit OF triteness and his saving
arst Impressions of Mr.. J. Wesley Cort-
wright's character began to fade. /
I'm immensely interested" was ,
Miss Cortwright's comment on the out /
lining OF the reclamation project. DO
vou mean to say that real farms with /
green things growing on them can be !
nade out Of that frightful desert we
nsove over yesterday afternoon3"
Brouillard smiled and plunged fatu-