Luncheon was served in the pleasant filtered sunlight, almost under the
shadow of the great dam.
On the way out Melissy had sat as demure and dovelike as it was possible
for her to be. But now she showed herself to be another creature.
Two or three young men hovered about her; notable among them was a young
fellow of not many words, good-humored, strong, with a look of power about
him which the railroad king appreciated. Jack Flatray they called him. He
was the newly-elected sheriff of the county.
The great man watched the girl without appearing to do so. He was rather
at a loss to account for the exotic, flamelike beauty into which she had
suddenly sparkled; but he was inclined to attribute it to the arrival of
Flatray.
Melissy sat on a flat rock beside West, swinging her foot occasionally
with the sheer active joy of life, the while she munched sandwiches and
pickles. The young men bantered her and each other, and she flashed back
retorts which gave them alternately deep delight at the discomfiture of
some other. Toward the close of luncheon, she turned her tilted chin from
Flatray, as punishment for some audacity of his, and beamed upon the
railroad magnate.
"It's very good of you to notice me at last," he said, with his dry
smile.
"I was afraid of you," she confided cheerfully.
"Am I so awesome?"
"It's your reputation, you know. You're quite a dragon. I'm told you
gobble a new railroad every morning for breakfast."
"'Lissie," her father warned.
"Let her alone," the great man laughed. "Miss Lee is going to give me the
privilege of hearing the truth about myself."
"But I'm asking. I don't know what the truth is," she protested.
"Well, what you think is the truth."
"It doesn't matter what we think about you. The important thing to know is
what you think about us."
"Am I to tell you what I think of you--with all these young men here?" he
countered.
She was excited by her own impudence. The pink had spilled over her creamy
cheeks. She flashed a look of pretended disdain at her young men.
Nevertheless, she made laughing protest.
"It's not me, but Mesa, that counts," she answered ungrammatically. "Tell
me that you're going to help us set orchards blossoming in these deserts,
and we'll all love you."
"You offer an inducement, Miss Lee. Come--let us walk up to the Point and
see this wonderful country of yours."