own I picked
out the one of his little adobe house but I knew almost to a certainty
that he was not there. So I turned my way into the darkness, not with
any great hope of finding Steele out there, but with the intention of
seeking a covert for myself until morning.

There was no trail and the night was so black that I could see only the
lighter sandy patches of ground. I stumbled over the little clumps of
brush, fell into washes, and pricked myself on cactus. By and by
mesquites and rocks began to make progress still harder for me. I
wandered around, at last getting on higher ground and here in spite of
the darkness, felt some sense of familiarity with things. I was probably
near Steele's hiding place.

I went on till rocks and brush barred further progress, and then I
ventured to whistle. But no answer came. Whereupon I spread my blanket
in as sheltered a place as I could find and lay down. The coyotes were
on noisy duty, the wind moaned and rushed through the mesquites. But
despite these sounds and worry about Steele, and the never-absent
haunting thought of Sally, I went to sleep.

A little rain had fallen during the night, as I discovered upon waking;
still it was not enough to cause me any discomfort. The morning was
bright and beautiful, yet somehow I hated it. I had work to do that did
not go well with that golden wave of grass and brush on the windy open.

I climbed to the highest rock of that ridge and looked about. It was a
wild spot, some three miles from town. Presently I recognized landmarks
given to me by Steele and knew I was near his place. I whistled, then
halloed, but got no reply. Then by working back and forth across the
ridge I found what appeared to be a faint trail. This I followed, lost
and found again, and eventually, still higher up on another ridge, with
a commanding outlook, I found Steele's hiding place. He had not been
there for perhaps forty-eight hours. I wondered where he had slept.

Under a shelving rock I found a pack of food, carefully protected by a
heavy slab. There was also a canteen full of water. I lost no time
getting myself some breakfast, and then, hiding my own pack, I set off
at a rapid walk for town.

But I had scarcely gone a quarter of a mile, had, in fact, just reached
a level, when sight of two horsemen halted me and made me take to cover.
They appeared to be cowboys hunting for a horse or a steer. Under the
circumstances, however, I was suspicious, and I watched