The Land of Strong Men Part 23

"Tetreau had a record of eight hundred inches on Canon Creek. That goes with the place. And there's a good spring creek."

"That little spring wouldn't irrigate more than a few acres," Angus objected. "Seems to me I heard the old man quit because he couldn't bring water from the main creek."

Mr. Braden frowned. "Nonsense! Plenty of water. Tetreau was too lazy to run a ditch, that's all. Lots of water. Never mind that. The main thing is the land, which is good. I'll depend on you for a good report, and I'll tell Chetwood to run out and see you."

Angus rode home, none too well pleased with the prospect. He could just remember Felix Tetreau, a stooped old Frenchman, and he had a vague recollection that the latter had given up the place after a vain attempt to make water run up hill. But it was possible that he had been wrong in his levels, or, as Mr. Braden had suggested, too lazy to put in a ditch.

Anyway, he had gone years before, and it appeared that Mr. Braden who owned a big block of land in that vicinity, had acquired his holding.

The clearing had grown back to wild, which as there had not been much of it, mattered the less. But the question of water mattered a great deal.

For in that district water was a _sine qua non_. Angus was no victim of the dry-farming delusion. Water and plenty of it, was essential in most years to grow paying crops. Therefore the value of the land, no matter what the quality of the soil, was conditional upon whether water could be brought upon it. It was that question which, in spite of Mr. Braden's airy dismissal, must be investigated in justice to Chetwood. Therefore when the latter came to the ranch, Angus took with them a hand level.

The land in question lay close to the foothills, and back of it a small, round mountain rose, but this was evidently not part of the parcel. The soil was a dark, sandy loam, which would give good result if properly fed, watered and cultivated. Angus pointed out these facts to the prospective buyer.

"Then you think it a good investment?" Chetwood queried.

"I did not say just that," Angus replied. "You have to add the cost of clearing to your purchase price. Then there will be your buildings and fencing and ditches. You have to figure on raising enough to pay interest on your total investment, and wages as well."

"I meant to ask you about the price. Is it fair, or shall I jew old Braden down a bit? Fancy I could, you know."

"The price is high--as land sells," Angus told him. "You can get good, wild land now for ten dollars an acre. Five years ago you could have got it for two dollars, and five years before that for fifty cents."

Chetwood whistled. "In the n.o.ble language of the country, I was about to be stung."

"Well," Angus explained, "if land values keep climbing, it might be a good investment, after all. I would not say it might not be. But you can buy just as good land cheaper."

"Then why does Braden ask so much?"

"I suppose he thinks he can get it."

Chetwood grinned. "In the terse vernacular of the land, 'I get you, Steve.' Shall I offer him ten dollars?"

"That would depend on the water supply."

"Oh, that's absolutely all right. I've seen the government certificate.

Eight hundred miners' inches. That's ample, what?"

"Yes--if you can get it on the land."

"But surely that sort of thing was looked into long ago, when the record was made."

Angus shook his head. "A water record isn't a guarantee of water. It's merely a right to take it if you can get it. Water is one thing you can't take for granted. We have time to run a line to the creek, and see where we come out. As for the spring here, it wouldn't water more than ten acres or so."

There is nothing more deceptive, even to the trained eye, than levels in a broken country. The unaided eye can tell nothing about them. To all appearances, in many places, water runs up hill. Nothing but the level can prove whether it can be brought upon any given area.

Starting from the upper end of the block they began to take sights. The distance to the creek was further than Angus had supposed. They ran into a broken country where the ground was rocky and less adapted to ditching. There were sidehills, which are dangerous because they have an annoying habit of sliding when water-soaked, and gulches which would necessitate fluming. All the time they drew nearer and nearer to the base of the round mountain. Unless the line could run around the lower foot of it the way was barred to water. And finally the line ran into the base of the hill. There was no going around it. It definitely settled the question of water. The land, then, was non-irrigable.

"I wonder if that old blighter, Braden, knew this?" Chetwood speculated.

"He might not," Angus replied, though he had his own ideas on the subject.

"And then again he might," Chetwood grinned. "_Caveat emptor_, and all that sort of thing. I'm awfully obliged to you, you know."

"That is all right."

"Left to myself I might have bought." He hesitated. "I wish there were some way for me to show my appreciation."

"Any one who knew the country would have told you the same thing."

"I'm not so sure of that. For instance, there is a rancher named Poole--know him?"

"Yes," Angus returned, for Poole to whom Braden had once purposed renting the Mackay ranch, had now some sort of place on the other side of town.

"Well, friend Braden, when I spoke of getting the opinion of some practical rancher, suggested Poole. Took a look at Poole, and thought I'd rather have you. Braden didn't seem to take kindly to my counter-suggestion, which naturally confirmed me in it. It's a sound system to play the game your opponent doesn't like. I'll tell the old blighter you didn't recommend the buy."

"That will be the truth."

Chetwood glanced at him keenly.

"I say," he exclaimed, "I don't wish to seem impertinent, but is there any personal reason why I should let Braden suppose I am doing this on my own?"

Angus hesitated. "I owe him more money than I can pay just now," he said, "but you may tell him what you like."

"Oh, thunder!" Chetwood e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed. "I'm afraid I've let you in for something. I'll say we never mentioned water, and quite on my own I'll tell him I must have an engineer's report on that."

But perhaps Chetwood did not tell his story convincingly. Or perhaps Mr.

Braden was too old a bird. At any rate, when he next saw Angus he asked him what he had told Chetwood. Angus replied bluntly. Whereupon, Mr.

Braden in high indignation accused him of blocking the sale.

"I merely told him what is so," Angus said.

"You brought up the water question yourself."

"Land is no good without water. You know that as well as I do."

"I don't admit that water can't be got on this land. Now, see here, I'm going to have a surveyor run the line of a ditch, and I want you to tell Chetwood you were mistaken in your levels. Understand?"

"If you can show me I'm mistaken, I'll be glad to tell him. But I'm certain of them. I've checked them up since."

"Dammit!" Mr. Braden exploded angrily, "do you know I hold a mortgage on your ranch? Do you know I hold your note? Hey?"

Angus stared at him for a moment, his black brows drawing down, his eyes narrowing. "And what has that got to do with the levels of this land?"

he asked with disconcerting directness.

But Mr. Braden s.h.i.+rked the show-down.

"Do with it, do with it!" he sputtered. "Oh, not a thing, not a d.a.m.ned thing, of course. You were my agent to conclude this sale, and you threw me down."

"I wasn't your agent. I was acting for Chetwood."