away instantly as he perceived that his interested gaze had been
intercepted. As he did so, Peggy, despite the heat, felt a little
shiver run through her.

But the emotion passed in a moment under the excitement of the dash
forward. Before long, the rough habitations of Blue Creek lay far
behind them, and in front there lay, glittering under the blinding
sun, the far-reaching expanse of the desert. Off to the southwest
hovered what seemed to be a blue cloud on the horizon. But they
knew that in that direction lay the Black Rock hills, a desolate
chain of low, barren mountains.

As if by instinct they all drew rein as the solitudes closed in
about them. Rising in his stirrups Mr. Bell pointed into the
distance. "Yonder lies the end of the rainbow!" he exclaimed with a
touch of rude poetry.

"And back there are the wings to fetch forth the pot of gold,"
laughed Jess, indicating the packing cases on the burros' backs.

"Yes, the golden wings," struck in Peggy, but there was a wistful
note underlying her light tone. The spell of the desert, the
unreclaimed and desolate, was upon her.





CHAPTER IV