over if he breaks us. And if we put our work across, if we make
a go of it, Swinnerton will be the rotten stick!"

He stopped suddenly and watched them. And as often as he heard them
curse him he heard them curse Swinnerton.

"Ben," he cried, when he had waited for them to understand what he had
said, "get the harness on some horses and take one of the wagons to
Valley City. Take a couple of men with you. Go to the general office
and ask for Tommy Garton. Tell him we've got to have water. You, Lark,
take the rest of the wagons as fast as you can send your horses to the
Half Moon for more water. Take what men you need. Cook, see if you
have enough water in your tent to do any good. And then get us
something to eat. Ben will be back from Valley City before you know
it. The rest of you fellows better lie around and chew tobacco until
water comes. We'll get an early start to-morrow to make up for lost
time. Peters, you and Mundy see that somebody looks out for the men
that are hurt. Take them to the tent. They get first water if the
cook has any. If not, Ben, you take them with you to Valley City."

His orders came with staccato precision. There was no tremor of doubt
in his tones. And there was no slightest hesitation in obeying the
orders from the man who was again "boss." Ben shouted out his own
commands to two men who stood close to him, and they ran for the
horses. The Lark was at the same time snapping out his orders, and the
men he called by name hurried for horses, and many hands made quick
work of the hitching-up. Other fingers whittled plugs, wrapped them
about with bits of sack, and drove them tight into the holes in the
barrels. The cook sped to his tent, found a bucket half full of water,
and was drinking thirstily when Mundy jerked it from his hands.

"None of that, you sneakin' skunk!" he shouted. "Them guys as got hurt
gets the first show."

The fellow Conniston had shot in the thigh, and the man whom he had
seen a companion strike with a knife, cutting him deeply in the neck,
were carried into the tent, water thrust up to their parched lips,
their wounds bound swiftly and gently. The Chinaman Mundy rolled over
with his foot.

"Deader 'n hell," he grunted. "Might as well leave him where he is
until plantin'-time."

Once more order had grown quietly out of chaos. The men stood here and
there talking, chewing tobacco, cursing the thirst which as the
minutes dragged by grew ever more tormenting. Already