He would have disdainfully denied that he was moved by a pang of jealousy.

But he had anticipated finding the girls alone and having a pleasant chat with them, enjoying their companionship, relaxing from the strain of arduous work, harkening to their badinage.

Indeed, if the interloper had been someone else, some other man, at least, he would have experienced a turn of disappointment--but that the individual should be this tricky, coddled, egotistical Charlie Menocal! Well, he should align the girls' irrigating ditch and then go about his business.
"I've been delayed in coming to correct your water flow," he remarked, when the fair homesteaders had given him greeting, "but I'm on hand at last." Ruth Gardner, looking prettier and fuller of spirits than ever, assured him the ditch was behaving no better than before.

Her next words, however, left him with an impression that he and not Charlie Menocal was the intruder, which hardened his annoyance into a desire to have done with the matter.
"I wish you had come some other day, for we're just about to depart," she exclaimed.

"Mr.Menocal is very kindly taking Imo and me in his car to see the old ruins of a pueblo somewhere over west.