She looked quickly at him. "Don't you remember Okar? That little town just beyond the mouth of the basin? Why, you've been there a good many times, Will, on errands for father. There wasn't much to Okar when you were here--just a few shanties and a store. Surely you remember!" Sanderson flushed. "I reckon I do remember, now that you speak of it," he lied. "But I don't think Okar has grown much." "Okar has grown to be an important town--for this locality," Mary smiled. "You see, the railroad has made it grow. It is now quite large, and has a bank and a dozen or more stores. It is a depot for supplies for a big section, and the railroad company has built large corrals there. A man named Silverthorn--and Alva Dale--are the rulers of Okar, now." "Who is Silverthorn?" "He is connected with the railroad company--a promoter, or something of that character. He is trying to make a boom town of Okar. He has bought a great deal of land in the basin." "You know what he wants the land for?" Sanderson smiled at her. "For speculation purposes, I suppose. If he could get water----" "You've figured it out," said Sanderson. "But he won't get water. The water belongs to the Double A--to me an' to you. An' we're goin' to sell it ourselves." "You mean--" began Mary. "That we're going to build an irrigation dam--with all the fixin's. You and me." The girl sat erect, her eyes luminous and eager. "Do you think we can do it?" she whispered. "Do you think you could trust me with the three thousand you said dad left? An' would you be willin' to mortgage the Double A--if we needed more money?" "Why," she declared, breathlessly, "the Double A is yours--to do with as you see fit. If you want to try--and you think there is a chance to win--why, why--go to it!" "You're a brick!" grinned Sanderson. "We'll start the ball to rollin' right away." Sanderson could not escape the vigorous hug she gave him, but he did manage to evade her lips, and he went out of the house blushing and grinning. It was late in the afternoon when he got to Okar. Barney Owen was with him. The two rode into town, dismounted at a hitching rail in front of a building across the front of which was a sign: THE OKAR HOTEL Okar was flourishing--as Mary Bransford said. At its northwestern corner the basin widened, spreading between the shoulders of two mountains and meeting a vast stretch of level land that seemed to be endless. Okar lay at the foot of the mountain that lifted its bald knob at the eastern side of the basin's mouth. Two glittering lines of steel that came from out of the obscurity of distance eastward skirted Okar's buildings and passed westward into an obscurity equally distant. The country around Okar was devoted to cattle. Sanderson's practiced eye told him that. The rich grassland that spread from Okar's confines was the force that had brought the town into being, and the railroad would make Okar permanent.