e
with Sandersen, and again, with the wolfish side glances, they eyed the
injured man, while they talked. At the next halt they faced him.
Sandersen was the spokesman.

"We've about made up our minds, Hal," he said deliberately, "that you
got to be dropped behind for a time. We're going on to find water. When
we find it we'll come back and get you. Understand?"

Sinclair moistened his lips, but said nothing.

Then Sandersen's voice grew screechy with sudden passion. "Say, do you
want three men to die for one? Besides, what good could we do?"

"You don't mean it," declared Sinclair. "Sandersen, you don't mean it!
Not alone out here! You boys can't leave me out here stranded. Might as
well shoot me!"

All were silent. Sandersen looked to Lowrie, and the latter stared at
the sand. It was Quade who acted.

Stepping to the side of Sinclair he lifted him easily in his powerful
arms and lowered him to the sands. "Now, keep your nerve," he advised.
"We're coming back."

He stumbled a little over the words. "It's all of us or none of us," he
said. "Come on, boys. _My_ conscience is clear!"

They turned their horses hastily to the hills, and, when the voice of
Sinclair rang after them, not one dared turn his head.

"Partners, for the sake of all the work we've done together--don't do
this!"

In a shuddering unison they spurred their horses and raised the weary
brutes into a gallop; the voice faded into a wail behind them. And
still they did not look back.

For that matter they dared not look at one another, but pressed on,
their eyes riveted to the hills. Once Lowrie turned his head to mark
the position of the sun. Once Sandersen, in the grip of some passion of
remorse or of fear of death, bowed his head with a strange moan. But,
aside from that, there was no sound or sign between them until, hardly
an hour and a half after leaving Sinclair, they found water.

At first they thought it was a mirage. They turned away from it by
mutual assent. But the horses had scented drink, and they became
unmanageable. Five minutes later the animals were up to their knees in
the muddy water, and the men were floundering breast deep, drinking,
drinking, drinking.

After that they sat about the brink staring at one another in a stunned
fashion. There seemed no joy in that delivery, for some reason.

"I guess Sinclair will be a pretty happy gent when he sees us coming
back," said Sandersen, smiling faintly.

There was no respons