Just as suddenly as he began laughing, he stopped. "We're a pack of fools I" he said with disgust. "And for one, I'm ashamed of myself! I'm going home!"
Avoiding each other's eyes the others went to their horses, mounted up and rode away. The Fence was a topic no longer mentioned in conversation.
Yet all wondered what Merrano would do, for there was no way out of the basin unless one walked. For three weeks they waited, and then one day Barry Merrano drove into town for supplies. When they rode out to see, The Fence was still intact.
Jim Hill, although he would not admit it, was relieved. Yet like the others, he was curious. He mounted up and scouted around the country. It was almost a month after that he rode into town. He had a drink in the Faro House and said, "Do you know what that Mex did? He's bored him a hole through the Neck!"
Anybody but Jim Hill they would have called a liar. The Neck was a wall of rock that joined the bulk of Table Mountain to the rest of the range, yet when they rode out to see it, there was a black hole in that red wall of rock.
How could it have been done? It was impossible, yet it had been done.
Nobody mentioned fencing the tunnel mouth.
A few days later when he passed Willow Springs, Barry Merrano saw a rider emerge from the shabby little grove and start across the trail. When she saw him, she pulled up.
It was Candy Drake.
He stopped the buckskins when he drew close. "How are you, ma'am?" He touched his hat. He started to comment on the heat and the drouth but thought the better of it. Instead he indicated the pinto's leg. "I see that leg is coming along all right."
"Yes, it got well just like you said it would."
He wanted to talk, yet wanted to avoid anything that might give offense. Candy Drake was the prettiest girl in Mirror Valley. He had talked to no one in almost three months, and he admitted to himself that he had been in love with Candy Drake for three years.
"The drouth came the way you said it would, too," she said almost accusingly. "Everything seems to turn out the way you say it will."
He flushed slightly. "Anybody who took the time to look could see this country was in trouble," he said. "This country had been so overgrazed there was no grass to hold what moisture we got. Most of it could have been prevented if work had been started a couple of years ago."
He took off his hat and ran his fingers through his thick, dark hair. "Nobody would listen to me when I offered to help. I was just that damned greaser son of Molly O'Brien's, so what could I know?"
There was a bitterness in his voice that came through no matter how hard he tried to hold it back. He had lived too close to this for too long a time.
Mirror Valley had been outraged when pretty Molly O'Brien had married Miguel Merrano. He had been a top-hand, hired only for the roundup. Pete Drake had his eyes on Molly, and so had others, but she had made promises to no one until she met Merrano.
Miguel bought the Table Mountain place and for four bitter years struggled against the hatred and the prejudice directed against them. Finally,when young Barry was almost two, they had gone away.
Surprisingly, they prospered. Barry heard many tales of Mirror Valley as he was growing up but nothing of the reason for leaving until he was fifteen. He determined then to return and fight it out if it took twenty years.
"My father certainly should know how to run cattle," Candy protested. "He's raised more cattle than you have ever seen."
"I'm twenty-six," Barry said, "and I've a lot to learn, but simply growing old doesn't make one wise. Your father came into a rich, new country and nothing could convince him it would not always stay rich.
"The others were the same. They ran more cattle than the range could support. Once when I was visiting at your place I tried to suggest some changes, but he just thought me a fool."
"But Barry," she protested, "millions of buffalo used to run on these plains, so how could they be
Avoiding each other's eyes the others went to their horses, mounted up and rode away. The Fence was a topic no longer mentioned in conversation.
Yet all wondered what Merrano would do, for there was no way out of the basin unless one walked. For three weeks they waited, and then one day Barry Merrano drove into town for supplies. When they rode out to see, The Fence was still intact.
Jim Hill, although he would not admit it, was relieved. Yet like the others, he was curious. He mounted up and scouted around the country. It was almost a month after that he rode into town. He had a drink in the Faro House and said, "Do you know what that Mex did? He's bored him a hole through the Neck!"
Anybody but Jim Hill they would have called a liar. The Neck was a wall of rock that joined the bulk of Table Mountain to the rest of the range, yet when they rode out to see it, there was a black hole in that red wall of rock.
How could it have been done? It was impossible, yet it had been done.
Nobody mentioned fencing the tunnel mouth.
A few days later when he passed Willow Springs, Barry Merrano saw a rider emerge from the shabby little grove and start across the trail. When she saw him, she pulled up.
It was Candy Drake.
He stopped the buckskins when he drew close. "How are you, ma'am?" He touched his hat. He started to comment on the heat and the drouth but thought the better of it. Instead he indicated the pinto's leg. "I see that leg is coming along all right."
"Yes, it got well just like you said it would."
He wanted to talk, yet wanted to avoid anything that might give offense. Candy Drake was the prettiest girl in Mirror Valley. He had talked to no one in almost three months, and he admitted to himself that he had been in love with Candy Drake for three years.
"The drouth came the way you said it would, too," she said almost accusingly. "Everything seems to turn out the way you say it will."
He flushed slightly. "Anybody who took the time to look could see this country was in trouble," he said. "This country had been so overgrazed there was no grass to hold what moisture we got. Most of it could have been prevented if work had been started a couple of years ago."
He took off his hat and ran his fingers through his thick, dark hair. "Nobody would listen to me when I offered to help. I was just that damned greaser son of Molly O'Brien's, so what could I know?"
There was a bitterness in his voice that came through no matter how hard he tried to hold it back. He had lived too close to this for too long a time.
Mirror Valley had been outraged when pretty Molly O'Brien had married Miguel Merrano. He had been a top-hand, hired only for the roundup. Pete Drake had his eyes on Molly, and so had others, but she had made promises to no one until she met Merrano.
Miguel bought the Table Mountain place and for four bitter years struggled against the hatred and the prejudice directed against them. Finally,when young Barry was almost two, they had gone away.
Surprisingly, they prospered. Barry heard many tales of Mirror Valley as he was growing up but nothing of the reason for leaving until he was fifteen. He determined then to return and fight it out if it took twenty years.
"My father certainly should know how to run cattle," Candy protested. "He's raised more cattle than you have ever seen."
"I'm twenty-six," Barry said, "and I've a lot to learn, but simply growing old doesn't make one wise. Your father came into a rich, new country and nothing could convince him it would not always stay rich.
"The others were the same. They ran more cattle than the range could support. Once when I was visiting at your place I tried to suggest some changes, but he just thought me a fool."
"But Barry," she protested, "millions of buffalo used to run on these plains, so how could they be
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