arty waited through the heat of
mid-day while the horses cropped the grass along the banks of the spring
rill.

At first there seemed nothing of interest about the old cabin. The
thatch had half blown off; the adobe-plastered stone fireplace and
chimney had tumbled down, and sand had drifted in past the broken wattle
door. But when Lennon went in to take advantage of the patch of shade
that was offered, he was shocked to find the skeleton of a woman huddled
in the far corner.

Summoned by his call, Slade eyed the skeleton with callous indifference.

"Well, what you kicking up such a fuss about?" he growled. "Mebbe it's a
squaw--mebbe a white woman. What's the difference? Been dead eight or
ten years, by the look of things. Must 'a' got hers same time as the
man. We're lucky they didn't git our mine."

The start back was made so late that the party did not reach the arsenic
spring until dusk. Lennon had convinced himself that Slade planned to
return to Dead Hole and at least make a pretense of earning the ten
thousand dollars.

His own scheme was to seize Slade's horse and make a run for the
railway. But first he must wait to be guided back through the devil's
dooryard of crags and clefts.

He fell asleep with his hand upon the butt of his revolver and the
revolver under his body. He awoke at dawn to find his wrists lashed
together. One of the Navahos stood on guard beside him. The revolver was
gone. Slade and the others were already eating.

No food was brought to Lennon. But after he had been roughly tossed into
his saddle by the Navahos, Slade brought a drink of water from the
arsenic spring and offered it with mock hospitality.

"It's a dry ride," he urged. "Take a good swaller, son. It'll keep you
from gitting thirsty."

Lennon looked at him steady-eyed.

"May I ask what you expect to gain by this, Slade?"

"Gain?--me?" The trader stared back no less unwaveringly. "I just done
it to save you gitting in trouble. You're too careless--way you handle a
gun. Might hurt somebody one of these here days. Anyhow, this'll help
you think things over. Sabe?"

The poison water splashed down upon the dry rocks. Slade mounted, to
ride off after the guide. The other Navahos lashed Lennon to his saddle
and drove his pony before them, along with the pack horse.

Though the old Navaho found a rather shorter way out through the jumble
maze of the bad lands, Lennon's mouth and throat were dust dry and his
tongue swollen