There was a break in the wall of the butte south of the group of buildings, and out of the break Sanderson could see water tumbling and splashing from one rock ledge to another until it rushed down, forming quite a large stream as it struck the level and swirled hurriedly between two sloping banks near the buildings. From where Sanderson sat on Streak he could look far back into the break in the butte. The break made a sort of gorge, which widened as it receded, and Sanderson suspected the presence of another basin beyond the butte--in fact, the Drifter had told him of the presence of another basin. "She'd make some lake, if she was bottled up!" was Sanderson's mental comment after a long examination. His gaze became centered upon the buildings and the level surrounding them. The buildings were ordinary, but the country was rugged and picturesque. Some foothills--which Sanderson had seen from the far side of the basin that morning--rose from the level toward the south, their pine-clad slopes sweeping sharply upward--a series of gigantic land waves that seemed to leap upward and upward toward the higher peaks of some mountains behind them. Northward, fringing the edge of the plain that began at the foothills and stretched many miles, were other mountains; eastward the butte extended far, receding, irregular, its jagged walls forming a barrier; southwestward stretched the basin, in a gentle slope that was more noticeable to Sanderson now than it had been while he had been riding during the morning. The land around the buildings was fertile, for here was water which could be utilized. The land over which Sanderson had been riding all morning, though, was not so fertile; it needed the water that the stream splashing out of the gorge could give it, with proper human manipulation. All morning Sanderson's thoughts had dwelt upon the serious lack of water in the basin. Now his thoughts grew definitely troubled. "There's goin' to be hell here--if this thing ain't handled right. The Double A has got lots of water. The other fellows will be wantin' it. They've got to have it." Sanderson finished his inspection of the place. Then he spoke to Streak, and the big brown horse descended the slope of the hill, struck the level, and cantered slowly toward the ranch buildings near the river. Sanderson urged the brown horse toward the largest building of the group, and as he rode he straightened in the saddle, rearranged his neckerchief and brushed some of the dust from his clothing--for at this minute his thoughts went to the girl--whom he now knew he had come to see. Sanderson no longer tried to delude himself. A strange reluctance oppressed him, and a mighty embarrassment seized him; his face grew crimson beneath the coat of tan upon it, and his lungs swelled with a dread eagerness that had gripped him.