n silence.

The sky in the west was rosy, slowly darkening. The valley floor
billowed away, ridged and cut, growing gray and purple and dark. Walls
of stone, pink with the last rays of the setting sun, inclosed the
valley, stretching away toward a long, low, black mountain range.

The place was wild, beautiful, open, with something nameless that made
the desert different from any other country. It was, perhaps, a
loneliness of vast stretches of valley and stone, clear to the eye, even
after sunset. That black mountain range, which looked close enough to
ride to before dark, was a hundred miles distant.

The shades of night fell swiftly, and it was dark by the time the
hunters finished the meal. Then the camp fire had burned low. One of the
three dragged branches of dead cedars and replenished the fire. Quickly
it flared up, with the white flame and crackle characteristic of dry
cedar. The night wind had risen, moaning through the gnarled, stunted
cedars near by, and it blew the fragrant wood smoke into the faces of
the two hunters, who seemed too tired to move.

"I reckon a pipe would help me make up my mind," said one.

"Wal, Bill," replied the other, dryly, "your mind's made up, else you'd
not say smoke."

"Why?"

"Because there ain't three pipefuls of thet precious tobacco left."

"Thet's one apiece, then. . . . Lin, come an' smoke the last pipe with
us."

The tallest of the three, he who had brought the firewood, stood in the
bright light of the blaze. He looked the born rider, light, lithe,
powerful.

"Sure, I'll smoke," he replied.

Then, presently, he accepted the pipe tendered him, and, sitting down
beside the fire, he composed himself to the enjoyment which his
companions evidently considered worthy of a decision they had reached.

"So this smokin' means you both want to turn back?" queried Lin, his
sharp gaze glancing darkly bright in the glow of the fire.

"Yep, we'll turn back. An', Gee! the relief I feel!" replied one.

"We've been long comin' to it, Lin, an' thet was for your sake," replied
the other.

Lin slowly pulled at his pipe and blew out the smoke as if reluctant to
part with it. "Let's go on," he said, quietly.

"No. I've had all I want of chasin' thet wild stallion," returned Bill,
shortly.

The other spread wide his hands and bent an expostulating look upon the
one called Lin. "We're two hundred miles out," he said. "There's only a
little flour left in the bag. No coffee! On