"Say, that's not a bad idea. The best I could figure was that they might need one of my waterholes for a reservoir site. But why not call him when he first takes a hand?" asked Knowles. "No, you should not show your cards until you have to," replied Ashton. "With all Leslie's money against you, it might be hard to get your injunction if they knew of your plans. But if you wait until they have their men, machinery and materials on the ground, you will have them where they must buy you out at your own terms." "By--James!" commented Knowles. "Talk about business sharps!" "I was in Leslie's office for a time," explained Ashton. "Your interests are Miss Chuckie's interests. I'm for her--first, last, and all the time." "Um-m-m. Then I guess I can count on you as sure as on Gowan." "You can. I am going to try my best to win your daughter, Mr. Knowles. She's a lady--the loveliest girl I ever met." "No doubt about that. What's more, she's got grit and brains. That's why I tell you now, as I've told Kid, it's for her to decide on the man she's going to make happy. If he's square and white, that's all I ask." "About my helping Blake with his levels," Ashton rather hastily changed the subject. "I am in your employ--and so is he, for that matter. Don't you think I have a right to keep you posted on all his plans?" "Well--yes. But he as much as says he will tell them himself." "Perhaps he will, and perhaps he won't, Mr. Knowles. I've told you what Leslie is like; and Blake is his son-in-law." "Well, I'm not so sure. You and Kid, between you, have shaken my judgment of the man. It can't do any harm to watch him, and I'll be obliged to you for doing it. If it comes to a fight against him and the millions of backing he has, I want a fair deal and--But, Lord! what if we're making all this fuss over nothing? It doesn't stand to reason that there's any way to get the water out of Deep Canyon." "Wait a week or so," cautioned Ashton. "In my opinion, Blake already sees a possibility." CHAPTER XV LEVELS AND SLANTS At sunrise the next morning Blake screwed his level on its tripod and set up the instrument about a hundred yards away from the ranch house. Ashton held the level rod for him on a spike driven into the foot of the nearest post of the front porch. Blake called the spike a bench-mark. For convenience of determining the relative heights of the points along his lines of levels, he designated this first "bench" in his fieldbook as "elevation 1,000." From the porch he ran the line of level "readings" up the slope to the top of the divide between Plum Creek and Dry Fork and from there towards the waterhole on Dry Fork. At noon Isobel and Mrs. Blake drove out to them in the buckboard, bringing a hot meal in an improvised fireless-cooker. "And we came West to rough-it!" groaned Blake, his eyes twinkling.