"You've struck it," smiled Langford. Dakota caught his gaze, and there was a smile of derision on his lips. "What particular thing are _you_ looking for?" he questioned. "Land." "Mine?" Dakota's lips curled a little. "Doubler's, then," he added as Langford shook his head with an emphatic, negative motion. "He's the only man who's got land near yours." "That's correct," admitted Langford; "I want Doubler's land." There was a silence for a few minutes, while Langford watched Dakota furtively as the latter gave his entire attention to his saddle. "You've got all the rest of those things you spoke about, then--happiness, money, and such?" said Dakota presently, in a low voice. "Yes. I am pretty well off there." "All you want is Doubler's land?" He stopped working with the saddle and looked at Langford. "I reckon, if you've got all those things, that you ought to be satisfied. But of course you ain't satisfied, or you wouldn't want Doubler's land. Did you offer to buy it?" "I asked him to name his own figure, and he wouldn't sell--wouldn't even consider selling, though I offered him what I considered a fair price." "That's odd, isn't it? You'd naturally think that money could buy everything. But maybe Doubler has found happiness on his land. You couldn't buy that from a man, you know. I suppose you care a lot about Doubler's happiness--you wouldn't want to take his land if you knew he was happy on it? Or don't it make any difference to you?" There was faint sarcasm in his voice. "As it happens," said Langford, reddening a little, "this isn't a question of happiness--it is merely business. Doubler's land adjoins mine. I want to extend my holdings. I can't extend in Doubler's direction because Doubler controls the water rights. Therefore it is my business to see that Doubler gets out." "And sentiment has got no place in business. That right? It doesn't make any difference to you that Doubler doesn't want to sell; you want his land, and that settles it--so far as you are concerned. You don't consider Doubler's feelings. Well, I don't know but that's the way things are run--one man keeps what he can and another gets what he is able to get. What are you figuring to do about Doubler?" Langford glanced at Dakota with an oily, significant smile. "I am new to the country, my friend," he said. "I don't know anything about the usual custom employed to force a man to give up his land. Could you suggest anything?" Dakota deliberately took up a wax-end, rolled it, and squinted his eyes as he forced the end of the thread through the eye of the needle which he held in the other hand. So far as Langford could see he exhibited no emotion whatever; his face was inscrutable; he might not have heard.