After a reasonable wait to see if water was coming in by the due process of law and growing doubtful about it, Noah Ezekiel had begun carefully laying plans. That morning he had gone to the Red Owl and had a secret session with Jack the Ace of Diamonds, one of the game keepers. Jack and the hill billy had become good friends, and Jack was more than willing to accommodate a friend. "Now, Ace," said Noah, "the idea is like this: This afternoon you send a Mexican out to that camp on the Dillenbeck canal with the information that the Owl wants to hire about eleven good boosters to begin work at twelve o'clock to-night; and have the messenger casually but secretly give each of them a slip of paper that is dead sure to get him one of the jobs. "And," Noah grinned, "you give every one of 'em that applies a job for two days--as a treat on me. You can fix it with the boss." "Sure," grinned Jack, "I'll fix it." And a Mexican messenger had been dispatched on the spot. Noah sat at the ranch shack as dark came on and counted them as they went by down the road. As he guessed, the officer would get away first, and the rest begin to drop away from camp one or two at a time soon after dark. By eleven o'clock he had counted seventeen: and then Noah saddled his horse. When he had met Imogene, he had thought she was another Mexican, but he was not alarmed at one or even three. A little before one o'clock Noah tied his horse to a cottonwood tree a half mile below the Dillenbeck water gates. He skirted through the fields round the deserted guard camp. His caution was not necessary, not a Mexican soldier was left. He grinned to think of the boosters about now in the Red Owl. Two hundred yards from the little open shack that served as office and home for the water keeper Noah took off his shoes and left his hat, and slipped toward the light. In his hands, muzzle forward, was the double-barrelled shotgun--the riot gun sure to hit its mark at close range that Bob had got for him with which to guard the Chandler ranch. CHAPTER XXX Noah, bent low, slipped forward in utter silence--more silence than necessary. The American water keeper, Madrigal, and the Mexican guard were too profoundly busy with a crap game on the floor under the lantern to be disturbed by the mere breaking of a twig. But all at once from out the night came a drawling voice: "Brethren, let's raise our hands." Three pairs of eyes leaped up from the dice and looked into the muzzle of the most vicious shotgun they had ever seen--not ten feet away. Six hands went up without a word. "Stand up," was the next drawling command. "Turn your backs." Noah flung two small ropes at their feet. "You," he ordered Madrigal, "tie the Mex's hands behind him--and stand him over by the wall." "Whitey," he ordered the water keeper when that was done, "tie the Hebrew's hands and feet and set him down over by the wall, facing this way.