full of
rose and lavender mysteries, the whole day so full of wide and happy
promise.

Mr. N. had insisted on going on after supper at the ranch. We had seen
him disappear down the valley, his machine finally hidden in acres of
grey-green sage brush.

The next morning we drove on, passing at the end of the valley through a
short but rough canyon, with rocky walls to the left and right. There we
saw a board sign marking "Water 100 feet down." Doubtless this was a
boon to travelers in the old days. Once through the canyon, we came out
into another wide valley, lonely and spacious. As we drove along, we
saw ahead of us what seemed to be a small motor car by the roadside.

"I believe that's N's car!" said T. As we came up to it we saw that the
two left wheels were hopelessly down in a deep rut. Mr. N. had stuck his
card in the windshield of the car, and had written on it, "Gone for some
boards; wait until I come back." Soon we saw him coming across the
desert with some loose boards in his arms. We found that the poor fellow
had been there from ten o'clock the night before until ten o'clock in
the morning, the hour of our passing. He had been bowling along
comfortably and somewhat sleepily the previous night, when suddenly his
car bumped into a muddy rut from which he found it impossible to
extricate the machine. He told us that he had worked frantically and
futilely until about midnight. Then he put out his lights, wrapped
himself up as best he could, and slept until seven. He said that utter
stillness and darkness were about him. "Not even a jack rabbit passed."
At seven he again began to struggle with his car. He had the sure hope
that we would come along sooner or later. He had calculated that we
would arrive about eleven. When we found him he had just gone to a
deserted, falling ranch house to find a few boards to be used as
levers. He and T., taking our machine, now drove to the ranch house and
brought back a goodly supply of boards and some heavier pieces of timber
which they had torn from the dropping fences. The boards they put in the
rut in front of the wheels in order that they might get a grip when once
they started. The heavier timbers they used as levers. And so by dint of
hard work and by the help of two young men who passed in their motor
half an hour after our arrival, the front wheel was pried out of the
sticky mud, and the car was once more gotten on firm ground. It was past
one o'clock when we climbed