he northern edge of the sandhills and
lighted their two signal fires. An answering fire flamed in the north, to
show that Boland had seen their signals.
"I reckon we'll stop and rest here a while till it gets cooler," observed
Pete. "Might as well, now. We can start in an hour and get in to the
wagon by dark. Reckon Frank Boland was glad to see them two fires! I bet
that boy sure hated to be left behind. Pretty tough--but it had to be
done. This has been a thunderin' hard trip on Frankie and he's stood up
to it fine. Good stuff!" He turned to the boy: "Well, Bobby, you had a
hard time wranglin' them to-day--but you got 'em, didn't you, son?"
"That's what I went after," said Bobby.
* * * * *
Boland stiffened after his rest. He made two small marches toward the
wagon, but his tortured muscles were so stiff and sore that he gave it up
at last. After he saw and answered the signal fires he dropped off to
sleep.
He was awakened by a jingling of spurs and a trampling of hoofs. He got
to his feet hurriedly. Four horsemen reined up beside him--not Pete
Johnson and his friends, but four strangers, who looked at him curiously.
Their horses were sadly travel-stained.
"Anything wrong, young man? We saw your fire?"
"No--not now." Boland's thoughts were confused and his head sang. He
attributed these things to sleepiness; in fact, he was sickening to a
fever.
"You look mighty peaked," said the spokesman. "Got water? Anything we can
do for you?"
"Nothing the matter with me, except that I'm pretty well played out. And
I've been anxious. There was a boy lost, or hurt--I don't know which. But
it's all right now. They lit two fires. That was to be the signal if
there was nothing seriously wrong. I let the boy's father take my
horse--man by the name of Carr."
"And the others? That was Pete Johnson, wasn't it? He went after the
boy?"
"Yes. And young Mitchell and Joe Benavides."
Zurich glanced aside at his companions. Dorsey's back was turned. Jim
Scarboro was swearing helplessly under his breath. Tall Eric had taken
off his hat and fumbled with it; the low sun was ruddy in his bright
hair. Perhaps it was that same sun which flamed so swiftly in Zurich's
face.
"We might as well go back," he said dully, and turned his horse's head
toward the little huddle of hills in the southwest.
Boland watched them go with a confused mind, and sank back to sleep
again.
* *
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