“Not in the way you mean,” Rawley assured him discontentedly. “I only wish you were my father. That is, I would if-- I hate to have Nevada feel that we both lied to her,” he blurted helplessly. For once, Uncle Peter was dense. He laughed quietly to himself. “Oh, she’ll get over that,” he declared easily. “That’s the drop of Spanish blood. Don’t you worry about that, boy. On the whole, I’m rather relieved. I’ve caught Young Jess eyeing you; Old Jess, too, and even Gladys noticed, I think. I was waiting for one of them to mention the resemblance between us. I was braced for it. I meant to laugh it off, as just their imagination. This way, they think they have it all accounted for. It does save a good deal of dangerous speculation. I’m not guessing. I know that Old Jess used to take spells of jealousy. Anita--mother--has always been afraid of him. When I was just a kid, I threw up his gun when it was pointed at her heart, and the quarrel was over your--over my father. Something had brought up the subject, some chance remark. The Spanish in her flamed up, and she told him that she loved King. Then he pulled the gun. He may have been drunk--I don’t remember that part. “So you see, son, I know why she’s in deadly fear of having him find it out. And there are other reasons why none of them must know. While he and Young Jess think I’m a Cramer, they will listen to me. I can keep things straight here. If they knew the truth, I’d probably have to leave.” He lighted the cigarette, and Rawley watched his face revealed for a moment by the flare of the match. “Boy,” he went on, turning toward Rawley, “I’ve got to stay. I’ve grown up, I’ve spent my whole life dreaming of the dam. It isn’t what we’ll get out of it, altogether, though it’s human and natural to want the gold, too. It’s the _dam_. I’ve planned and worked for it so long. I’ve got to see it go through.” He smoked and meditated for awhile, staring down at the river, always slipping past him, always in a hurry to meet the tides; to mingle its mountain water with the salt of the ocean. “I saw two men drown out there, once.” He waved a hand toward the river. “I’d like to stop it running, just to show it who’s master here.” Another silence, and then he looked at Rawley. “You don’t mind being thought my son?” There was a wistfulness in his tone. “If I thought you minded--” Rawley shook himself out of his mood. He leaned forward and forced himself to smile at Peter. “I don’t mind, at all,” he lied. “I hate to have Nevada think that I deliberately lied to her because I was ashamed of any such relationship. I--want to keep her confidence and respect--”