Rhoda became strangely silent, though she clung to John’s hand and now and again lifted it against her cheek.  The yellow of the desert reeled in heat waves about them.  The deep, intensely deep blue of the sky glowed silently down on them.  Never to see them again!  Never to waken with the desert stars above her face or to make camp with the crimson dawn blinding her vision!  Never to know again the wild thrill of the chase!  Finally Rhoda gave herself a mental shake and looked up into John’s tired face.

“How did you come to leave the camp, John?” she asked gently.

“It’s all been luck,” said John.  “With the exception of a little trail wisdom that Billy or Carlos raked up once in a while it’s just been hit-or-miss luck with us.  We suspected that Billy had gone on Injun Tom’s trail, so we made camp on the spot so he wouldn’t lose us.  I stood guard this morning while Jack and Carlos slept and then I thought that that was fool nonsense, as Kut-le never traveled by day.  So I started on a hunt along Billy’s trail—­and here we are!”

“Are there any other people hunting for me?”

“Lord, yes!  At first they were fairly walking over each other.  But the ranchers had to go back to their work and the curious got tired.  Most of those that are left are down along the Mexican border.  They thought of course that Kut-le would get off American territory as soon as he could.  Must we keep such a pace, Rhoda girl?  You will be half dead before we can reach the camp!”

Rhoda smiled.

“I’ve followed Kut-le’s tremendous pace so many miles that I doubt if I shall ever walk like a perfect lady again!”

“I thought that I would go off my head,” DeWitt went on, dropping into a walk, “when I saw you there at Dead Man’s Mesa and you escaped into that infernal crevice!  Gee, Rhoda, I can’t believe that this really is you!”

The sun was setting as they climbed through a wide stretch of greasewood to the first rough rock heaps of the mountains.  Then DeWitt paused uncertainly.

“Why, this isn’t right!  I never was here before!”

Rhoda spoke cheerfully.

“Perhaps you have the right mountain but the wrong trail!”

“No!  This is altogether wrong.  I remember this peak now, with a sort of saw edge to the top.  What a chump I am!  I distinctly remember seeing this mountain from the trail this morning.”

“How did it lie?” asked Rhoda, sitting down on a convenient stone.

“Gee, I can’t remember whether to the right or left!”

Rhoda clasped and unclasped her hands nervously.

“I hate to stop.  One can’t tell what Kut-le is up to!”

DeWitt squared his broad shoulders.

“Don’t you worry, little girl.  If he does find us he’ll have to take us both!  We’ll just have to rest here for a moment.  There’s no use starting till we have our sense of direction again.”