otioned to the other. They huddled in
the scanty shade alongside the first wagon. Both men were so powdered
and caked with alkali that their features were indistinguishable. Their
red-rimmed, inflamed eyes looked out as though from masks.

The one who had been bringing up the rear looked despairingly toward the
mountains.

"We'll never get there!" he cried.

"Not the way we are now," replied the other. "But I intend to get
there."

"How?"

"Leave your wagon, Jim; it's the heaviest. Put your team on here."

"But my wagon is all I've got in the world!" cried the other, "and we've
got near a keg of water yet! We can make it! The oxen are pulling all
right!"

His companion turned away with a shrug, then thought better of it and
turned back.

"We've thrown out all we owned except bare necessities," he explained,
patiently. "Your wagon is too heavy. The time to change is while the
beasts can still pull."

"But I refuse!" cried the other. "I won't do it. Go ahead with your
wagon. I'll get mine in, John Gates, you can't bulldoze me."

Gates stared him in the eye.

"Get the pail," he requested, mildly.

He drew water from one of the kegs slung underneath the wagon's body.
The oxen, smelling it, strained weakly, bellowing. Gates slowly and
carefully swabbed out their mouths, permitted them each a few swallows,
rubbed them pityingly between the horns. Then he proceeded to unyoke the
four beasts from the other man's wagon and yoked them to his own. Jim
started to say something. Gates faced him. Nothing was said.

"Get your kit," Gates commanded, briefly, after a few moments. He parted
the hanging canvas and looked into the wagon. Built to transport much
freight it was nearly empty. A young woman lay on a bed spread along the
wagon bottom. She seemed very weak.

"All right, honey?" asked Gates, gently.

She stirred, and achieved a faint smile.

"It's terribly hot. The sun strikes through," she replied. "Can't we let
some air in?"

"The dust would smother you."

"Are we nearly there?"

"Getting on farther every minute," he replied, cheerfully.

Again the smothering alkali rose and the dust cloud crawled.

Four hours later the traveller called Jim collapsed face downward. The
oxen stopped. Gates lifted the man by the shoulders. So exhausted was he
that he had not the strength nor energy to spit forth the alkali with
which his fall had caked his open mouth. Gates had recourse to the
water keg. After a littl