burro and was ready to start, faced about and said: "We might
stay together, if it's all right with you."

"I never take a partner," replied Cameron.

"You're alone; I'm alone," said the other, mildly. "It's a big
place. If we find gold there'll be enough for two."

"I don't go down into the desert for gold alone," rejoined Cameron,
with a chill note in his swift reply.

His companion's deep-set, luminous eyes emitted a singular flash.
It moved Cameron to say that in the years of his wandering he had
met no man who could endure equally with him the blasting heat,
the blinding dust storms, the wilderness of sand and rock and lava
and cactus, the terrible silence and desolation of the desert.
Cameron waved a hand toward the wide, shimmering, shadowy descent
of plain and range. "I may strike through the Sonora Desert. I
may head for Pinacate or north for the Colorado Basin. You are
an old man."

"I don't know the country, but to me one place is the same as
another," replied his companion. For moments he seemed to forget
himself, and swept his far-reaching gaze out over the colored gulf
of stone and sand. Then with gentle slaps he drove his burro in
behind Cameron. "Yes, I'm old. I'm lonely, too. It's come to me
just lately. But, friend, I can still travel, and for a few days
my company won't hurt you."

"Have it your way," said Cameron.