come in on that, too. There's more in that, to my mind, than in a bare
wooden cross. Pity there won't be more teamin' on this road. Now the stage
has hauled off, I don't expect as many as three outfits a year will water
at that fountain, excusin' the sheep, and they'll walk over it and into it,
and gorm up the whole place."

"Well, the idea has been a great comfort to Mr. Withers, but it's not
likely anything more will ever come of it. From all we hear, the spring
would have to run up hill to reach this hollow; but you won't speak of it,
will you, till we know?"

"Gosh, no! But water might be struck higher up the gulch--might sink a
trench and cut off the spring."

"That would depend on the source," said Thane, "and on how much the old
gentleman is willing to stand; the fountain alone, by the time you haul the
stone here, will foot up pretty well into the thousands. But we'll see."

"Hadn't you better stay round here with them till I git back?" Kinney
suggested; for Thane had taken the empty canteens from the wagon, and
was preparing to go with him to the spring. "You kin do your prospectin'
later."

"They would rather be by themselves, I think," said Thane. But seeing Mr.
Withers coming towards him, as if to speak, he turned back to meet him.

"You are going now to look for the spring, are you not?" the old gentleman
asked, in his courteous, dependent manner.

"Yes, Mr. Withers. Is there anything I can do for you first?"