I'm with you to the finish!"
Sanderson smiled at the engineer's glowing enthusiasm and told him of
the opposition he would meet in developing the project.
"There'll be a heap of schemin', an' mebbe shootin', Williams,"
Sanderson told him. "Puttin' through this deal won't be any
pussy-kitten affair."
"So much the better," laughed the engineer; "I'm fed up on soft snaps
and longing for action."
The engineer was thirty; big, square-shouldered, lithe, and capable.
He had a strong face and a level, steady eye.
"If you mean business, let's get acquainted," he said. "My front name
is Kent."
"Well, Kent, let's get busy," smiled Sanderson. "You go to work on
your estimates, order your material, hire your men. I'll see how bad
the people in the basin want the water they've been expectin'."
Kent Williams took up his quarters in the bunkhouse and immediately
began work, though before he could do much he rode to Okar, telegraphed
to Dry Bottom, the town which had been the scene of his previous
activity, and awaited the arrival of several capable-looking young men.
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