hem had been swept by the floods from the
heights and ripped out as clean as a sand-wash. And this waterspout,
which had turned into a mighty cloudburst, would sweep one of them clean
again. The question was--which one?

A breeze, rising suddenly, came up from the Sink and was sucked into the
vortex above; the black line of the downfall turned lead-color and
broadened out until it merged into the clouds above; and at last, as
Wunpost lingered, the storm disappeared and the canyon took on the hush
of heavy waiting. The sun blazed out as before, the fig-leaves hung down
wilted; but the humidity was gone and the dry, oven-heat almost created
the illusion of coolness.

"Well, I'm going," announced Wunpost, for the third or fourth time. "She
must have come down away north."

"No--wait!" protested Billy, "why are you always in such a hurry? And
perhaps the flood hasn't come yet."

"It'd be here," he answered, "been an hour, by my watch; and believe me,
that old boy would be coming some. Excuse _me_, if it should hit
into one end of a box canyon while I was coming up the other. My friends
could omit the flowers."

"Well, why not stay, then?" she pouted anxiously; "you know Mother
didn't mean anything. And perhaps Father will be down, to see if there
was any damage done, and we could catch him first and explain."

"No explaining for me!" returned Wunpost, beginning to pack; "you can
tell them whatever you want. And if your folks are too religious to use
my old road maybe the Lord will send a cloudburst and destroy it. That's
the way He always did in them old Bible stories----"

"You oughten to talk that way!" warned Wilhelmina soberly, "and besides,
that's what made Mother angry. She isn't feeling well, and when you
spoke slightingly of Divine Providence----"

"Well, I'm going," he said again, "before I begin to quarrel with
_you_. But, oh say, I want to get that dog."

"Oh, it's too hot!" she protested, "let him stay under the house. He and
Red are sleeping there together."

"No, I need him," he grumbled, "liable to be bushwhacked now, any time;
and I want a dog to guard camp at night."

He started towards the house, still looking up the canyon, and at the
gate he stopped dead and listened.

"What's that?" he asked, and glanced about wildly, but Billy only shook
her head.

"I don't hear anything," she replied, turning listlessly away, "but I
wish you wouldn't go."

"Well, maybe I won't," he answered grimly, "