“Boland, you’ll have to give Carr your horse,” said Pete.  “It’s his boy; and you’re ’most dead anyhow.  We’ll light a big blaze when we find him, and another on this edge of the sandhills in case you don’t see the first.  We’ll make two of ’em, a good ways apart, if everything is all right.  You take a canteen and crawl under a bush and rest a while.  You need it.  If you feel better after a spell, you can follow these horse tracks back and hobble along to the wagon; or we can pick you up as we come back.  Come on, boys!”

“But your mine?” said Carr.  He pointed to a slow dust streak that passed along the north.  “I saw you coming—­two bunches.  Ain’t those fellows after your mine?  ’Cause if they are, they’ll sure find it.  You’ve been riding straight for them little hills out there all alone in the big middle of the plain.”

“Damn the mine!” said Pete.  “We’ve been playing.  We’ve got man’s work to do now.  No; there’s no use splitting up and sending one or two to the mine.  That mine is a four-man job.  So is this; and a better one.  We’re all needed here.  To hell with the mine!  Come on!”

* * * * *

They found Bobby, far along in the afternoon, in the sandhills.  His lips were cracked and bleeding; his tongue was beginning to blacken and swell; his eyes were swollen nearly shut from alkali dust, and there was an ugly gash in the hair’s edge above his left ear; he was caked with blood and mire, and he clung to the saddle horn with both hands—­but he drove six horses before him.

They gave him, a little at a time, the heated water from their canteens.  A few small drinks cheered him up amazingly.  After a big soapweed was touched off for a signal fire, he was able to tell his story.

“Naw, I ain’t hurt none to speak of; but I’m some tired.  I hit a high lope and catched up with them in the aidge of the sandhills,” he said.  “I got ’em all unhobbled but old Heck; and then that ornery Nig horse kicked me in the head—­damn him!  Knocked me out quite a spell.  Sun was middlin’ high when I come to—­horses gone, and the cussed pony trailed along after them.  It was an hour or two before I caught sight of ’em again.  I was spitting cotton a heap.  Dad always told me to carry water with me, and I sure was wishing I’d minded him.  Well, I went ’way round and headed ’em off—­and, dog-gone, they up and run round me.  That Zip horse was the ringleader.  Every time, just as I was about to get ’em turned, he’d make a break and the rest would follow, hellity-larrup!  Old Heck has cut his feet all to pieces with the hobbles—­old fool!  I headed ’em four or five times—­five, I guess—­and they kept getting away, and running farther every time before they stopped and went to grazing.  After a while the pony snagged his bridle in a bush and I got him.  Then I dropped my twine on old Heck and unhobbled him, and come on back.  Give me another drink, Pete.”

They rode back very slowly to the northern edge of the sandhills and lighted their two signal fires.  An answering fire flamed in the north, to show that Boland had seen their signals.