OCR Text |
Show WATER, J.ALLAN DUNN Jff AUTHOR. f "A MAN TO HIS MATE i-yH fo , "R1MROCK TRAIL IJJ "&!wM y COPYRIGHT "P! DOOD.MEAD WCO. WiUi turned off to wind behind a low ridge. It was deep-rutted and Caleb traced It. He found that It ended at a gravel pit, dug into the side of the ridge, used probably for roadmaking purposes. The pit had been bitten out in the shape of a horseshoe and, standing where one of the calks would come, he saw a dilapidated shed from the roof of which smoke was rising through a rusty stove pipe. A man, leaning against the open door, surveyed sur-veyed him curiously. Caleb nodded to him as he walked over to the shack, crunching through the gravel. The man was lank and tall, stooped of shoulder and constricted constrict-ed of chest. A hooked nose stuck out boldly from the peaked and sunken face between eyes that glittered strangely. Long hair fell below his shirt collar. As he rested against the door jamb a fit of couchine attacked him and he was a man. To create something, to be a water-bearer, to the thirsty earth or to thirsty people." Baxter, coming in, broke through his reverie. "You look like a latter-day prophet seeing visions," said Baxter. "What's the big idea?" "Just a hunch, so far, Ted. I'm going go-ing across the bay tomorrow, prospecting." pros-pecting." The other looked at him oddly. "Expect to uncover a gold mine at El Nido? Beware of the sirens who lie behind the rocks ! As I remember her, that day at the dog show, the Clinton girl was a looker. Beware!" "I'm not looking for that kind of a mine, Ted. And I hadn't thought of going to El Nido this trip. You seem fairly happy yourself." "I am. I've heard from my parties in the land deal. They'll be out In a few weeks. Probably some time next month. Thereby greatly relieving the general situation. Now it's up to me to attend to the little formality of finding the land to please them. I wonder if there's anything across the shook with it like a reed in the wind. He was so helpless in the grip of the attack that Caleb hurried to support him, thinking him about to fall. But the violent efforts ceased and the man rallied, smiling wanly, with a grimy handkerchief set to his lips. Caleb caught sight of telltale flecks of bright-red blood quickly folded Into the rag. The cough was from the lungs, the man tubercular. " 'S all right, stranger," said the man. "I've bin a sight worse. I'm gettin' it baked out ef me here. Lungs teched but they're healin'. Fishin', are ye? Better work up to the canyon yonder. No use wastin' yore time down here. Folly the road below the pit an' then trail the crick. It's tough goin'. Sile's chokin', what little they is of it." "Mostly gravel underneath, to judge by the pit," Caleb answered. "Thanks for the tip. Have a cigar?" The man took It wolfishly and bit off the end. Caleb gave him a match. "I thought that perhaps you owned the gravel pit." "Me. I don't own nothln'. 'Cept this cough, and I'm willin' to get shet of that. Mine's a charity job. It's good gravel an' the hill makes it handy to git at. I can't work at my trade no longer. It takes it out of me, you see." Caleb didn't see. The glitter in the man's eyes was not so much that of fever as of the spirit, he decided. He fancied him a little demented, by way of being a crank or a fanatic. "I'm glad the land's worth something," some-thing," he said. "It doesn't look like it." The man shot over a quick, burning burn-ing look. "That's to them as looks only on the surface," he said. "What do you mean?" The man led the way into the shack. From the two-by-fours that supported the corrugated Iron roof hung some switches of freshly cut willow and hazel. Some were old and dried. And all were forked. "Know what those are?" asked the man. "Them's divinin' rods. I'm a diviner. A Water-Finder. That's my trade. It's the power within me that goes out an' leaves me weak. Too weak to work at it. Each job means another nail in the lid of my coffin. Mebbe you're one of them that laugh at it?" he demanded fiercely. "But there's many in the upper valley as has blessed me when I showed 'em where to bore." The thing seemed uncanny. Yet, somehow, it fitted In. The hunch stirred in his brain. To Caleb, under the spell of his vision, it seemed predestined pre-destined that he, the Water-Bearer, should meet this Water-Finder to confirm con-firm his hope, n living signpost that he was on the track. He knew that within the year the French Academy of Sciences had accepted ac-cepted the demonstration of a number num-ber of scientifically controlled cases where the "water-divining rod" had proved beyond a doubt that certain persons were gifted with the power to discover subterranean springs and reservoirs. Scientists did not attempt to explain the mystery, but accepted the phenomenon and were making It the subject of expert research to discover dis-cover the natural causes. "I have known many cases back In the East, where I come from,'1 Caleb said, "where water has been found by the use of the rod." The man was instantly mollified.' "Ah," he said. "It's all true. I ain't quite human, mebbe. It's a gift, the power. Like a medium's. Supernatural. Super-natural. The spirits talk to me about It sometimes. I'd like to show ye, but I'm too weak. But you can take my word for it me, David Evans, the Welsh Water-Finder, what's discovered a score of wells north of Coyote crick , that there's water all under here under this gravel. Apparently this David Evans is to play an Important part In the story. What does he do? ' '1 I (TO BE CONTINUED.) THE DIVINER SYNOPSIS Idly fishing Iler-manos Iler-manos creek, In California, Caleb Warner, civil engineer and a New Engrlander, is witness of the end of a coyotte pullt-d down by two wolfhounds, urged on by a girl rider. Admiring the hounds, he introduces himself, and learns her name is Clinton. With western west-ern hospitality she Invites him to the ranch to meet her father. At the Clinton home Warner learns his new friend's name is Betty. He is welcomed by her father, Southern Civil war veteran and owner of Hermanos valley. He tells them something of his ambitions am-bitions and his feeling that he is destined to be a "Water-Bearer." In the town of Golden Warner shares an apartment wtth his old Columbia college chum, Ted Baxter, Bax-ter, carefree and somewhat dissipated dissi-pated youth, only child of his widowed mother, who controls the family fortune. At a club ' luncheon Baxter introduces Caleb to Wilbur Cox. leading business man and president of the water company which supplies the needs of Golden. He gives Cox an inkling of his ambitions, and Cox, Impressed, invites him to dinner that night. During dinner Cox asks Caleb to call at his office next day. He does so and Cox arranges a meeting between Caleb and Hinckley, the water company's chief engineer. Baxter tells Caleb he is in difficulties with a girl, Mary Morgan, Cox's stenographer, who insists he must rnarry her. With Hinckley, Caleb looks over the water company's com-pany's source of supply, the Crystal springs, in Hermanos valley. CHAPTER V Continued "Surely. Had to. Still have to. If you ever build a dam anywhere along the line of the Great Fault, don't forget that. Every major quake runs along the same line, out of the sea at a tangent, nor'west to sou'east down the original crack. The big temblor in 1S12 that wrecked the Missions, Mis-sions, and the quake in 1906 that wrecked Golden and Santa Rosa, moved over an identical trail. And that trail went clean through my big dam down there." The long lake had once been a peaceful peace-ful valley, Hinckley told Caleb, a stage road winding through it on the way to the sea, farms, farmhouses and a hamlet with a famous roadhouse at the Crystal Springs for which the valley val-ley was named. All these had been razed to prepare the bottom of the great reservoir, fences taken up, trees eliminated, the place devastated as the big dam rose in the great notch that formed the main outlet to the valley. Caleb turned the talk to the question of Gol den's impending shortage. "Mr. Cox," he said, "stated that there was no more watershed available avail-able on the peninsula." "That Is true. We own a certain number of artesian wells around the lower end of the bay but they are only a drop in the bucket. The outlook is not very encouraging." "How about across the bay?" Caleb put the query with a degree of nervousness. nervous-ness. He feared that Hinckley was ubout to uncover his own precious theory and demolish It. The engineer's eyes twinkled. "They say that water, like gold, is where you find it. And findings keepings! keep-ings! There Is water over there that ft hit-ally belongs to Oakville. Our company naturally considers Golden more important. But it is difficult of development. Means large expenditure. expendi-ture. We should have a hard job to get water rates raised sufficiently to warrant it. Filtration Is the big trouble. trou-ble. The work would be elaborate and expensive. We cau't see our way clear." Caleb kept his face clear of everything every-thing but earnest attention. But he was breathing more easily. His theory was still virgin. Hinckley proceeded to go Into the present filtration system and the layout lay-out of the conduits that supplied the hydrants of Golden. Caleb's interest In Crystal lakes had been satisfied but he followed the technical talk with Intelligent comment and left the engineer engi-neer at last on terms that were more than merely friendly. He readied Golden after the stores were closed for the day but. early the next morning morn-ing he obtained geodetic section maps of the quadrangles covering Caliente valley and the Gabilan range. He put in most of the day studying these and making little drawings to scale in vertical ver-tical plane. It was all in support of n mere theory but It was his habit to be painstaking, pains-taking, even in preliminaries, and he surveyed his sketches with a good deal of satisfaction. If the theory panned out It meant, not merely money and fame if he handled Ids dis-covery dis-covery properly, but it would in: ke him, Caleb Warner, an actual factor In pioneering, in city building. He quoted to himself what Betty Clinton t;ad said 'I i El Nido. ' i'ii.i! .' what I si"i::'il ,vefor. if I The Long Lake Had Once Been a Peaceful Valley. bay? I must look up my notes. Want me to come along with you, Cal? 1 wonder if the El .Nido valley is for sale:'' He glanced mockingly at Caleb and laughed. "Old Chief Wooden Face, aren't you? Don't worry. I won't butt in to poach on your preserves. Give my regards to Miss Clinton. She may vaguely remember me. I was Introduced Intro-duced to her at the Show. But, remember re-member my warning. Stoics like you, when they fall, fall hard!" CHAPTER VI The Diviner Caleb caught an early ferry for the six-mile water trip across the hay from Golden to Oakville. At Oakville lie took a local train that paralleled the shore of the lower bay for a time before striking east through Coyote canyon, the natural gateway through the hills for the overland trains. As he had clone on Hermanos creek, Caleb noted flood signs. Then he gave himself him-self up to studying his sketches, covering cov-ering the region he was going to prospect, pros-pect, going over them while the train tugged up the canyon until he knew them by heart. He left the train at the same station sta-tion he had used on his previous trip, buying some fruit to serve as luncheon lunch-eon before he crossed the bridge and started up Hermanos. He had brought along rod and creel, more as a mask to his real Intentions than from any idea of fishing. The scanty flow ran in a deep channel chan-nel gouged out by Moods. He examined ex-amined the sides and found them all of gravel. A wagon road that had followed fol-lowed the creek up from the railroad |