Hooker brought out some folded papers, spreading them upon the table. “These are the rest of the steel specifications,” he said, running his fingers down the list of numbers. “You’ve followed the others, haven’t you?” “To the hair’s breadth,” Nash replied. “Ordered the siphon steel?” “All of it. In fact, to-day I started construction of the big siphon across Soledad Cañon.” “Good for you!” Hooker’s eyes brightened. “That’s speedy work, all right, Nash. Sigsbee wants to see Camp Forty-seven get the first siphon completed. It’ll carry a hundred-dollar bonus if you complete it before the fifteenth.” “I’ll win it.” Hooker’s face glowed with admiration. “Nash, you’re a brick. I never saw a fellow put so much enthusiasm into his work.” Then, after a moment, he added: “Not having any trouble, are you?” “Trouble? None, except that water main being smashed. Why?” Hooker shrugged, and turned the subject with a laugh. “Oh, nothing in particular, Nash. Only, you know, a man in your position is always hated by some of the workers. I guess you can take care of yourself, can’t you? You’re no weakling. And remember, this isn’t New York.” “What do you mean by that?” Nash asked, not liking the other’s tone. “Well, if you should--hurt a man out here--it wouldn’t be necessary to disappear,” Hooker answered. “I believe that was the reason for your departure from New York, wasn’t it?” Nash calmly ignored the insinuation, gathered up the papers Hooker had brought, and fastened them with the others on his board. “Sigsbee send any further orders?” he asked, after he had finished. “That’s all, Nash. I came down from San Fernando in his car. The moon’s up now, so I might as well be hitting the trail back. Like to take a little spin?” “Not to-night, thank you,” Nash replied. “Got too much work to do.” Hooker frowned, and shrugged his shoulders. Before leaving the cabin he turned, and said: “Don’t take things so serious, Nash. I didn’t mean anything when I said you----” “Of course you didn’t,” Nash interrupted dryly. “Convey my best wishes to Sigsbee, will you?” Hooker went out, slamming the door behind him. Long after the sound of the chugging motor had died away on the still night air, Nash remained bending over his desk, marshaling into order the confusing rows of figures, transferring the totals from his memorandum book to the ledger, and preparing, as he always did, for the work of the coming day. The subject touched upon by the old foreman brought back an instant and bitter flood of memories; but he fought against them, crushed them back, firm in his resolve not to allow the past to interfere with the duties on hand. CHAPTER XVII. GETTING READY. Early the next morning, while Nash was still at breakfast, a man came running up with the information that a body had been found at the foot of a high cliff, a short distance from where the siphon was being constructed.