“I told you then that the same crack was a split in the rock outcrop further up the plain, and was deeper. I am satisfied now, from what I have seen, that it is really a rupture of the whole strata all the way down. That's the one weak point that the imprisoned water is sure to find, and that's where the borer will tap it--in the new well that the earthquake itself has sunk.” It seemed to her now that she understood his explanation perfectly, and she wondered the more that he had been so mistaken in his estimate of Adele. She turned away a little impatiently and looked anxiously towards the point where Dawson had disappeared. Bent followed her eyes. “He'll be here in a moment, Miss Mallory. He has to drive slowly through the grain, but I hear the wheels.” He stopped, and his voice took up its previous note of boyish hesitation. “By the way--I'll--I'll be going up to the Rancho this afternoon to see the major. Have you any message for Mrs. Randolph--or for--for Miss Adele?” “No”--said Rose, hesitatingly, “and--and”-- “I see,” interrupted Bent, carelessly. “You don't want anything said about your coming here. I won't.” It struck her that he seemed to have no ulterior meaning in the suggestion. But before she could make any reply, Dawson reappeared, driving a handsome mare harnessed to a light, spider-like vehicle. He had also assumed, evidently in great haste, a black frock coat buttoned over his waistcoatless and cravatless shirt, and a tall black hat that already seemed to be cracking in the sunlight. He drove up, at once assisted her to the narrow perch beside him, and with a nod to Bent drove off. His breathless expedition relieved the leave-taking of these young people of any ceremony. “I suppose,” said Mr. Dawson, giving a half glance over his shoulder as they struck into the dusty highway,--“I suppose you don't care to see anybody before you get to San Jose?” “No-o-o,” said Rose, timidly. “And I reckon you wouldn't mind my racin' a bit if anybody kem up?” “No.” “The mare's sort o' fastidious about takin' anybody's dust.” “Is she?” said Rose, with a faint smile. “Awful,” responded her companion; “and the queerest thing of all is, she can't bear to have any one behind her, either.”