“Van—­Buren,” he said in a hoarse, rattling whisper, “Van——­”

Van was instantly alert.

“Hello.”

Barger partially raised his hand.

“So long,”—­and the hand dropped downward.

“Matt!” answered Van, quickly kneeling on the earth.  He caught up the fingers, felt their faint attempt to close upon his own—­and the man on the ground was dead.

CHAPTER XLIII

PREPARING THE NET FOR A DRAW

Beth Kent, as the sun was going from the sky, fell down three times in utter exhaustion.  She and the others had come to within a mile of the “Laughing Water” claim.  Pratt was far away in the rear, on the last of his stations.  Glen, in the lead, was forging ahead on a second supply of strength.  Hidden from the sight of either of the others, Beth was ready for collapse.

But onward crept that merciless ribbon of steel that Glen was dragging.  Three times the girl rose and stumbled onward, up the last acclivity.  Her legs were like lead.  She stubbed her toes on every rock.  She could almost have cried with the aches of weariness.  It seemed as if that terrible hill unfolded new and steeper slopes for every one she climbed.

She went down repeatedly.  To have lain there, hungry, but indifferent to anything but sleep, would have been the most heavenly thing she could conceive.  She was literally falling up the hill, with all her machinery slumping towards inertia, when finally Pratt, on his distant hill, sent the signal for Glen to halt.

“All right, Beth—­rest!” he called from the end of the chain, and she sank at once in her tracks.

It was almost dusk when Pratt came toiling up the hill.  Glen had come down to Beth’s position.  He too was thoroughly tired.  How the line had come out was more than he could care.  But Beth, with the last of her flickering strength, arose to hasten Pratt.

“No use in the three of us being seen,” he said, planting his transit in the sand, but making no effort to adjust it to a level.  “That ridge there overlooks the claim.  I’ll climb up alone and take a bird’s-eye view.”

“We’re as near as that!” cried Beth in startled surprise.  “Then what do you think?  Does the line include the claim?”

“I’ll have to look around from the ridge,” repeated Pratt with aggravating caution.  “You can wait ten minutes here.”

He started laboriously up the slope—­and Beth stood tensely watching.  She thought she saw him top the ridge, but he disappeared from sight.

The darkness was gathering swiftly in all the desert world.  The girl’s excitement and impatience grew with a new flare up of energy.  To think that Searle was so near at hand, with fate a-hover in the air, sent her pulses bounding madly.

It seemed as if Pratt would never return from the hill.  She could almost have dashed to the summit herself, to learn the outcome of their labors.  Then at last, from a small ravine, not far away, he appeared in his leisurely manner.