Gilpin observer., 1919-07-03

end Of the fat time. Hasten7 Why
should they. and shorten their day Of
opportunity
Between the two camps oscillated
Coronel. silently squatting near the
whites. jabbering his primitive Es-
peranto to the tribes. His friendship
with the white chiefs, his age and nat
ural leadership gave him unique po-
sition In both camps. Assiduously,
Rickard cultivated the old Indian who
crouched days through by the bank of
the river.
The engineers felt the whip of ex-
element. Never a man left the camp
in the morning who did not look to-
ward that span crawling across the
treacherous stream, measure that
widened bypass. Would the gate
stand? The Hardin men halloed for
the gate. but looked each morning to
see if it were still there. The Reclama-
tion Service men and the engineers of
the railroad were openly skeptical;
Sisyphus outdone at his own game
Estrada and Richard looked furtively
at the gate, with doubt at each other.
Hardin, himself, was repressed, an
eager live wire. His days he spent on
the river; his nights. long hours of
the slow-wheeling, star-pricked dome
of desert sky. His was the suspense
Of the man on trial; this was his
trial; Gerty, Rickard, the valley, his
Judge and jury. The gate grew to be
symbol with him of restored honor,
an Obsession of desire. 1t must be all
right!
Rickard was all over the place.
Watching every piece of rock that's
dumped in the river" complained
Wooster. "Believe he marks them at
nightI"
They were preparing for the final
rush. In a week or two, the work
would be continuous, night shifts to
begin when the rock-pouring COM
menced. Large lamps were being sus-
pended across the channel, acetylene
whose candelpower was that of an arc
light. Soon there would be no night
at the break. When the time for the
quick coup would come, the dam must
be closed without break or slip. One
mat was down. dropped on the floor
that had already swallowed two such
gigantic mouthfuls; covered with
rock; pinned down to the slippery bot
tom with piles. Another mat was
ready to drop; rock was waiting to be
poured over it; the deepest place in
the channel was reduced from fifteen
to seven feet. Each day the overpour,
anxiously measured, increased. A third
steam shovel had been added the rail
road sent in several work trains fully
equipped for service; attracted by the
the hoboes were commenc-
Ing to come in.
1t was a battle Of big numbers.
duel of great force where time was
the umpire. Any minute hot weather
might fall on those snowy peaks up
yonder, and the released waters, rush.
ing down. would tear out the defenses
as a wave breaks over a child's fort
made of sand. This was a race, and
all knew it. A regular train dispatch
system was in force that the inrushing
cars might drop their burden Of rock
and gravel and be off after more. The
Dragon was being fed rude meals, its
appetite whetted by the glut Of pour
Ing rock.
Tod Marshall came down from Tue
son in his car. The coming of the
Palmyra and Claudia rippled the So
cial waters at the front for days
ahead. Gerty Hardin, too proud to
tell her astonished family ehat she
to desert the mess tent, shook
herself from her injury. and "did up"
all her lingerie gowns. Mrs. Marshall
was not going to patronize her, even
If her husband had snubbed Tom. It
was hot. ironing in her tent, the doors
closed. Everything carried a sting
those indoor hours. She was aflame
with hot vanity. Twice, she had
openly encouraged Richard; twice, he
had fiouted her. That was his kind
Men who prefer Mexicans-! She
would never forgive him, never!
She followed devious channels to in
volve Toms responsibility. There was
a cabal against the wife of Hardin.
Working like a servant she called 1t
necessity. Everything. every one pun
ished her for that one act of folly.
Life had caught her. She saw no way.
as she ironed her null ruffles, no way
out Of her cage. Her spirit beat wild
wings against her bars. II she could
see way outl Nothing to do but to
stay with Toni
Maddening, too, that at the mess
table. she caught Richards eyes turning
toward, resting on, Innes Hardin. The
girl herself did not seem to notice
artful, subterranean. such stalking
That was why she had come running
back to the Headingl That the reason
Of her anger when she had hinted of
the Maldonado. She learned to hate
1nnes. Bitterly she hated Rickard.