ings he had read
about the dangers of over-drinking after water famine. But he was
developing an implicit faith in Peter's wisdom and Peter was drinking
till his thin ribs swelled. When he had entirely slaked his thirst,
Roger rested for a bit, then looked about him. A trail led along the
canyon from the spring, westward. Roger filled the canteen, then he and
Peter took the trail. It led perhaps a quarter of a mile to a deserted
mine, a mine of vast workings and huge ramshackle sheds that were
innocent of either windows or doors. The engine house had been nailed
up, but Roger's strength and spirits had been much revived by the water.
He rested for awhile, then wrenched off some boards and went in, Peter
struggling to follow, then giving the idea up and standing at rest in
the shade. A complete ore separator plant was installed within. At the
fore end of the shed was a gas producer engine in perfect condition as
far as Roger could tell, except for the sand that had sifted over it. It
was of a type with which he was not familiar and he spent a half hour in
thoughtfully examining it, and making notes on a scrap of paper
concerning it. He was absorbed in a new idea when he closed up the shed
and whistled to Peter who had found some old alfalfa hay in a manger
under a shed and was just finishing it off.

There was a trail still leading westward out of the camp, and Roger,
with a blind faith that his luck had turned, followed it to the opposite
canyon wall, and here, where it evidently once had been a fair mountain
road, followed it on up to the top of the range. It was late afternoon
when this was accomplished. The ridge where Roger now found himself was
high and barren. At first it seemed to him that the trail ended here
where the winds had swept unhampered by man so long. But Peter was
untroubled. He crossed the ridge nimbly, picked up a range trail on the
opposite side and started to descend.

His new master followed with a chuckle that increased to a laugh as he
descried far to the north on the west range, the faint outlines of
buildings, with the trail faintly marked along valley and mountainside
toward it. Just at dusk they reached it. It was the Goodloe mine! In
spite of utter fatigue and hunger, Roger would not stop now. In high
spirits he took the familiar road toward home.

It was nine o'clock when he passed the Preble ranch house, silent and
lightless, but with the horses munching in the corral. He stopped to
p