in, for I tell you I never saw so much
sufferin' and misery as these settlers are goin' through out here on
this cussid pe-rairie right now. Some of these folks is haulin' water
from the river as much as thirty mile!"

"I notice all the creeks and branches are dry. But it's only a little
way to plenty of water all over this country if they'll dig. Some of
them have put down wells during this dry spell and hit all the water
they need. There's a sheet of water flowing under this country from the
mountains in Colorado."

"Oh, you git out!"

"Just the same as the Arkansas River, only spread out for miles," Morgan
insisted. "A drouth here doesn't mean anything to that water supply;
I've been riding around over this country trying to show people that.
Most of them think I'm crazy--till they dig."

"I don't guess you're cracked yit," Joe allowed, "but you will be if you
stay in this country. If it wasn't for the bones you wouldn't find me
hangin' around here--I'd make for Wyoming. They tell me there's any
amount of bones that's never been touched up in that country."

"I noticed several other wagons out gathering bones. They'll soon clean
them up here, Joe."

"They're all takin' to it," Joe said, with the resentment of a man who
feels competition, "hornin' in on my business, what's mine by rights of
bein' the first man to go into it in this blame country. Let 'em--let
'em run their teams down scourin' around after bones--I'll be here to
pick up the remains of 'em all. I was here first, I've stuck through the
rushes of them fellers that's come into this country and dried up, and
I'll be here when this crowd of 'em dries up. Them fellers haul in bones
and trade 'em at the store for flour and meal, they don't git half out
of 'em what I do out of mine, and they're hurtin' the business, drivin'
it down to nothin'."

"Hotter than usual this morning," Morgan remarked, not so much
interested in bones and the competition of bones.

"Wind's dying down; I noticed that some time ago. Goin' to leave us to
sizzle without any fannin'. Ruther have it that way, myself. This
eternal wind dries a man's brains up after a while. I'd say, if I was
anywhere else, it was fixin' up to rain."

"Or for a cyclone."

"Too late in the season for 'em," Joe declared, not willing to grant
even that diversion to the drouth-plagued land of bones.

Joe reverted to the bones; he could not keep away from bones. There was
not much philosophy in him to