ong. Well, I mustn't carry much."

He abandoned his revolver, a knife, $200 in gold, and continued on foot,
preserving only the water-bag with its precious mouthful. Greenfield,
who had waited immovably, allowed him to approach within a quarter of a
mile before putting his horse in motion.

"He's going to make sure I stay here," said Frawley to himself, seeing
that Greenfield made no attempt to increase the lead. "Well, we'll see."

Twelve hours later Greenfield's horse gave out. Frawley uttered a cry of
joy, but the handicap of half a day was a serious one; he was exhausted,
famished, and in the bag there remained only sufficient water to moisten
his lips.

The fifth day broke with an angry sun and no sign on the horizon to
relieve the eternal monotony. Only the buzzard at the same distance
aloft bided his time. Hunter and hunted, united perforce by their common
suffering, plodded on with the weary, hopeless straining of human beings
harnessed to a plow, covering scarcely a mile an hour. From time to
time, by common consent, they sat down, gaunt, exhausted figures, eyeing
each other with the instinct of beasts, their elbows on their bony
knees. Whether from a fear of losing energy, whether under the spell of
the frightful stillness, neither had uttered a word.

Frawley was afire with thirst. The desert entered his body with its dry
mortal heat, and ran its consuming dryness through his veins; his eyes
started from his face as the sun above him hung out of the parched sky.
He began to talk to himself, to sing. Under his feet the sand sifted
like the soft protest of autumn leaves. He imagined himself back in the
forest, marking the rustle of leafy branches and the intermittent
dropping of acorns and twigs. All at once his legs refused to move. He
stood still, his gaze concentrated on the figure of Greenfield a long
moment, then his body crumpled under him and he sank without volition to
the ground.

Greenfield stopped, sat down, and waited. After half an hour he drew
himself to his feet, moved on, then stopped, returned, approached, and
listened to the crooning of the delirious man. Suddenly satisfied, he
flung both arms into the air in frenzied triumph, turned, staggered,
and reeled away, while back over the desert came the grotesque, hideous
refrain, in maddened victory:

"Yankee Doodle Dandy oh!
Yankee Doodle Dandy!"

Frawley watched him go, then with a sigh of relief turned his glance to
the blac