There was no trail and the night was so black that I could see only the lighter sandy patches of ground.  I stumbled over the little clumps of brush, fell into washes, and pricked myself on cactus.  By and by mesquites and rocks began to make progress still harder for me.  I wandered around, at last getting on higher ground and here in spite of the darkness, felt some sense of familiarity with things.  I was probably near Steele’s hiding place.

I went on till rocks and brush barred further progress, and then I ventured to whistle.  But no answer came.  Whereupon I spread my blanket in as sheltered a place as I could find and lay down.  The coyotes were on noisy duty, the wind moaned and rushed through the mesquites.  But despite these sounds and worry about Steele, and the never-absent haunting thought of Sally, I went to sleep.

A little rain had fallen during the night, as I discovered upon waking; still it was not enough to cause me any discomfort.  The morning was bright and beautiful, yet somehow I hated it.  I had work to do that did not go well with that golden wave of grass and brush on the windy open.

I climbed to the highest rock of that ridge and looked about.  It was a wild spot, some three miles from town.  Presently I recognized landmarks given to me by Steele and knew I was near his place.  I whistled, then halloed, but got no reply.  Then by working back and forth across the ridge I found what appeared to be a faint trail.  This I followed, lost and found again, and eventually, still higher up on another ridge, with a commanding outlook, I found Steele’s hiding place.  He had not been there for perhaps forty-eight hours.  I wondered where he had slept.

Under a shelving rock I found a pack of food, carefully protected by a heavy slab.  There was also a canteen full of water.  I lost no time getting myself some breakfast, and then, hiding my own pack, I set off at a rapid walk for town.

But I had scarcely gone a quarter of a mile, had, in fact, just reached a level, when sight of two horsemen halted me and made me take to cover.  They appeared to be cowboys hunting for a horse or a steer.  Under the circumstances, however, I was suspicious, and I watched them closely, and followed them a mile or so round the base of the ridges, until I had thoroughly satisfied myself they were not tracking Steele.  They were a long time working out of sight, which further retarded my venturing forth into the open.

Finally I did get started.  Then about half-way to town more horsemen in the flat caused me to lie low for a while, and make a wide detour to avoid being seen.

Somewhat to my anxiety it was afternoon before I arrived in town.  For my life I could not have told why I knew something had happened since my last visit, but I certainly felt it; and was proportionately curious and anxious.