In former days Wallie had wished for a yacht, his own stables, and such luxuries, but now he wanted a well with far greater intensity than he had desired those extravagances.
The all-important question had been whether he could at present afford it, with his money vanishing like a belated snowbank. Then, while he had been debating, Rufus Reed appeared at such a timely moment that it had seemed providential.
Mr. Reed, lately arrived from Illinois, was now sitting with his feet on the stove-hearth and so close to the coals that the cabin was strong with the odour of frying rubber, and declaring modestly: "I may say, without braggin', that I have made an enormous success since I gave up my flour and feed store and took to well-diggin' as a perfession. By acci-dent I discovered that I was peculiarly gifted."
Watching the smoke rising from Rufus's arctics and speculating as to what might be the composition of his soles that he could endure so much heat without discomfort, Wallie inquired politely: "In what way, may I ask?"
Mr. Reed's tone became impressive: "I am--a water witch."
Wallie looked puzzled.
"Some call it magic, but the fact is, I am able to locate water with a forked willer and you can call it anything you want to."
Wallie regarded the worker of miracles with fresh attention. His belief in his own powers was evidently so sincere that even a skeptic could not fail to be impressed by him.
He continued: "With my divinin' rod I have flew in the faces of the biggest geologists in the country and found water where they said there wasn't any."
"Will the divining rod tell you how far you must dig for it?"
"Pretty close to it. I count a foot to every bob of the willer."
"In a state like Illinois where there is a great deal of moisture I presume it would be possible to get water anywhere if one went deep enough, but in Wyoming--frankly, I should not like to rely on the divining rod in Wyoming, Mr. Reed."
Mr. Reed looked somewhat offended and declared with spirit: "I'll tell you what I'll do--I'll make you a sportin' proposition. I'll test the ground with the willer and if it says we'll get water at a certain depth and we don't strike it, I'll dig till we do, for nothin', if we have to go till we hear the Chinamen gibber. That's fair, ain't it?"
Wallie could not gainsay it.
"I got a willer on my saddle and it won't cost nothin' for a demonstration. Say the word," persuasively, "and you've good as got a fine, flowing well of water."