tfit and come so near to death that he
could barely keep his feet under him, walked into a tent and stood there
thinking it couldn't be true.

A folding camp chair stood near the opening, and Casey sat down from sheer
weakness while he looked about him. The tent was a twelve-by-fourteen,
which is a bit larger than one usually carries in a pack outfit. It had a
canvas floor soiled in strips where the most walking had been done, but
white under table and beds, which proved its newness. Casey was not
accustomed to seeing tents floored with canvas, and he stared at it for a
full half-minute before his eyes went to other things.

There was a folding camp table of the kind shown in the window display of
sporting-goods stores, but which seasoned campers find too wobbly for
actual comfort. The varnish still shone on legs and braces, which helped
to prove its newness. There was a two-burner oil stove with an
enamel-rimmed oven that was distinctly out of place in that country and
yet harmonized perfectly with the tent and furnishings. The dishes were
white enamel of aluminum, and there were boxes piled upon boxes, the
labels proclaiming canned things too expensive for ordinary eating. Two
spring cots with new blankets and white-cased pillows stood against the
tent wall, and beneath each cot sat two yellow pigskin suitcases with
straps and brass buckles. They would have been perfectly natural in a
Pullman sleeper, but even in his present stress Casey snorted disdainfully
at sight of them here.

Things were tumbled about in the disorder of inexperienced campers, but
everything was very new and clean except an array of dishes on the table,
which told Casey that one man had eaten at least three meals without
washing his dishes or putting away his surplus of food. Casey had eaten
nothing at all after that one toasted rabbit which he had choked down on
the evening when he gave up hope of finding the burros. He got up and
staggered stiffly to the table and picked up a piece of burned biscuit,
hard as flint.

While he mumbled a fragment of that he looked into various half-filled
cans, setting them one by one in a compact group on the table corner;
which was habit rather than conscious thought. Poisonous ptomaine lurked
in every one of them, which was a shame, since he had to discard half a
can of preserved peaches, half a can of roast beef, half a can of
asparagus tips, a can of chicken soup scarcely touched and two thirds of a
can o