camping-spot, but went on and on. Once he came out upon the
brow of a hill and saw a considerable stretch of country
beneath him. It had the gray sameness characterizing all that
he had traversed. He seemed to want to see wide spaces--to get
a glimpse of the great wilderness lying somewhere beyond to the
southwest. It was sunset when he decided to camp at a likely
spot he came across. He led the horse to water, and then began
searching through the shallow valley for a suitable place to
camp. He passed by old camp-sites that he well remembered.
These, however, did not strike his fancy this time, and the
significance of the change in him did not occur at the moment.
At last he found a secluded spot, under cover of thick
mesquites and oaks, at a goodly distance from the old trail. He
took saddle and pack off the horse. He looked among his effects
for a hobble, and, finding that his uncle had failed to put one
in, he suddenly remembered that he seldom used a hobble, and
never on this horse. He cut a few feet off the end of his lasso
and used that. The horse, unused to such hampering of his free
movements, had to be driven out upon the grass.

Duane made a small fire, prepared and ate his supper. This
done, ending the work of that day, he sat down and filled his
pipe. Twilight had waned into dusk. A few wan stars had just
begun to show and brighten. Above the low continuous hum of
insects sounded the evening carol of robins. Presently the
birds ceased their singing, and then the quiet was more
noticeable. When night set in and the place seemed all the more
isolated and lonely for that Duane had a sense of relief.

It dawned upon him all at once that he was nervous, watchful,