dwarf junipers appeared. He was getting higher, although the mesa seemed
level. Again he discovered the tracks of the horses in the powdered red
clay of the road.

He crossed a shallow arroyo, sandy and wide. Later he came suddenly upon
a red clay cutbank, and a hint of water where the bank shadowed the
mud-smeared rocks. He rode slowly, preoccupied in studying the country.
The sun showed close to the rim of the world when he finally realized
that, if he meant to get anywhere, he had better be about it. Dobe
promptly caught the change of his rider's mental attitude and stepped
out briskly. Bartley patted the horse's neck.

It was a pleasure to ride an animal that seemed to want to work with a
man and not against him. The horse had cost one hundred dollars--a fair
price for such a horse in those days. Yet Bartley thought it a very
reasonable price. And he knew he had a bargain. He felt clearly
confident that the big cow-pony would serve him in any circumstance or
hazard.

As a long, undulating stretch of road appeared, softly brown in the
shadows, Bartley began to look about for the water-hole which Wishful
had spoken about. The sun slipped from sight. The dim, gray road reached
on and on, shortening in perspective as the quick night swept down.

Beyond and about was a dusky wall through which loomed queer shapes that
seemed to move and change until, approached, they became junipers.
Bartley's gaze became fixed upon the road. That, at least, was a
reality. He reached back and untied his coat and swung into it. An early
star flared over the southern hills. He wondered if he had passed the
water-hole. He had a canteen, but Dobe would need water. But Dobe was