three hours."

The morning of the second day they crawled from their blankets
beneath the wagon to find the sky clear and the air free from dust.
Eagerly they prepared to move. Against their shelter the sand had
drifted nearly to the top of the wheels, and the wagon-box itself
was more than half filled. The hair, eye-brows, beard and clothing
of the men were thickly coated with powdery dust, while every sign
of the trail was gone and the wheels sank heavily into the soft
sand.

Three times Texas halted the laboring team and, climbing to the
summit of a drift, determined his course by marks unknown to those
who waited below. Again they stopped for the plainsman to take an
observation, and this time the four in the wagon, watching the
figure of the driver against the sky, saw him turn abruptly and come
down to them with long plunging strides. Instinctively they knew
that something unusual had come under his eye.

The Seer and Jefferson Worth spoke together. "What is it, Tex?"

"A stray horse about a mile ahead."

For the first time Texas Joe uncoiled the long lash of his whip and
his call "You, Buck! Molly!" was punctuated by pistol-like cracks
that sounded strangely in the death-like silence of the sandy waste.

As they came within sight of the strange horse the poor beast
staggered wearily to meet the wagon--the broken strap of his halter
swinging loosely from his low-hanging head.