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It was dynamite, dynamite stolen probably from the work and brought up and stored here for some evil purpose. Evidently Miguel was preparing to strike the first blow in the plot against the dam. Was he to die, trapped like a rat? Was this the end of his adventure? It looked very much like it. But something would not let him give up. He would make one more attempt for his life and liberty. “No.” The answer was final and assured. “But I wouldn’t put it beyond a lot of the stock and cattlemen around here. They’ve been sore about the dam, with as little reason as they have on every job the Service has tackled. They always end by being a lot better off with the project finished than they ever would have been if the range had been left alone. At first they can’t help but suffer some annoyance from the building of the dam. A good part of the land which we will irrigate, while not sufficiently productive to be good farming land, raises enough natural grass to feed stock. Above the dam the stored water will form a lake that will cover thousands of acres of such pasturage, I’ll admit. But the cattlemen are so blind that this point is all that they can see. They will have the same chance to profit by the irrigated lands below. It has always worked out well in the end.”.
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Conrad
“Why—why you never wanted to go before and I—I don’t think I can take you with me to-day.” “No, I will,” said Johnny. But thoughts such as these occurred to him less and less as the distance between him and the East grew greater. By the time he dropped off the train at Williams, Arizona, where he changed to the day coach that would take him to the Grand Canyon, his mind was so full of the future that there was no room for the things he had left behind him. “John!” screamed Mother, starting up. “Oh, Johnny! my boy, my boy! Is it really you?”.
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