Menocal continued to give his instructions to the latter. They had to do with bringing a few hundred sheep from one of the bands feeding in the hills. They were to be driven down on the mesa to graze, and kept moving about near the Stevenson ranch house; Garcia was to observe what the young man there did, all he did, whom he saw, and as far as possible where he went. Particularly was he to note if surveyors came and set to work anywhere. If the young man appeared to be engaged at any task on the mountain side, Joe was to approach with his sheep. And he was to report everything he learned. Charlie's attention became more lively as he listened to his father's directions to the man, and when Garcia had departed he asked, "Who are you after? Who's this young fellow you speak of as being at the Perro Creek ranch? Didn't Stevenson deed the place back?" Menocal senior twisted an end of his flaring moustache. "May a thousand damnations fall on him! No, he didn't," he responded, wrathfully. "But that only means you'll have to foreclose the mortgage. It will take longer, that's all." Charlie was vice-president of his father's bank--his name was so printed on the stationery, at least--and was familiar with his parent's affairs, though he was averse to anything like industry. He much preferred the pursuit of pleasure to work, and his automobile to the grille of the bank. He was accurately aware, too, of his father's weakness for him, an only child, and of his father's inclination to indulge his desires; and shrewdly played upon the fact. Nevertheless, in matters of business he possessed a certain sharpness. "Stevenson sold the ranch to this young man Bryant, who just now paid off the mortgage," Menocal explained. "Then he was stung," Charlie averred. "Wait, you don't know all, my son. He plans to build a dam and a canal and use that old water right out of the Pinas, taking the water with which we irrigate the farms down at Rosita. It will leave them dry; the alfalfa will die; no more grain or peas or beans will be raised on them; they won't have even good pasturage; they will go back to sagebrush and cactus--all those farms, all those beautiful ranches! Altogether four or five thousand acres! They are worth two hundred thousand dollars now--to-morrow worth nothing! Half my winter hay comes from them; half my peas for fattening lambs. I shall have to sell part of my sheep. I'm a millionaire now, but I'll be reduced, I'll be less than a millionaire, and so almost poor again. It's very bad; it mustn't be; I must stop him using the water." Even Charlie became solemn at the prospect of losing two hundred thousand dollars and being less than a millionaire. "The right hasn't been used; we'll have it cancelled," he said, with sudden confidence.