ting
in their eyes, in spite of the breathless burning heat, the morning
passed cheerfully. They even managed to satisfy their hunger with canned
beef and canned brown bread. They had washed down the last of the
unsavory lunch with the tepid, nauseously alkaline water from the olla
when a gust of wind of tremendous proportions tore open the door flap
and filled the room with a blinding swirl of sand. At the same moment
there was a fearful crash from without, followed by the sound of
breaking glass. Leaving Charley to refasten the door flap, the three men
bolted toward the absorber.

The sand cloud was so dense that they could distinguish little until in
actual contact with the edge of the trough. Then the trouble was
obvious. A part of the sheet iron roof had blown off the engine house,
and lay in a great twisted heap on the absorber. Roger immediately
crawled under the trough. The heavy metal had pierced the floor of the
absorber and oil was pouring out in a thin but steady stream. He pawed
his way out hurriedly.

"Go shut the oil off, Ernest," he shouted, "and get pails to catch that
oil. Why the devil did some one leave the valve open? Gustav, give me a
hand with this mess. Why didn't we have sense enough to fasten it
securely? If we don't move it, it may blow the length of the trough."

Roger plunged hastily up among the panes of broken glass, Gustav
following. After a moment of effort the guilty mass of sheet iron was
shoved over onto the sand. Just at the last a particularly vicious blast
of wind twisted it violently against Gustav's bare arm.

"Du lieber Gott!" he roared. "Be careful yet!"

"Now let's cover the engine," shouted Roger, giving no heed to Gustav's
cry.

"Hell mit the engine! Look!" Gustav thrust his left hand in Roger's
face. The sleeve was dripping blood. Roger seized Gustav's arm tightly
above the elbow. "Come over to the tent, Gustav," he said.

Stumbling blindly through the sand drifts the two men reached the tent,
where just as they crept inside the flap, Gustav fainted. Charley ran
forward and before Roger could protest had helped lift Gustav to his
cot.

"I don't think it's so bad. He never can stand the sight of blood," said
Roger.

They stripped back the sleeve as Roger spoke. A gash several inches long
in Gustav's upper arm had laid bare the bone. Felicia began to cry.

"I've got a first aid kit, somewhere," said Roger, running to dig wildly
through the trunks, emerging in a m