the fellow's efforts to conceal his trail.

The party escorting Waite reached the town in the evening, and in the
following gray dawn, the adventurers forded the river, and mounted on
fresh horses and fully equipped, headed forth into the sand hills. The
little company now consisted of Keith, Fairbain, who, in spite of his
rotundity of form had proven himself hard and fit, Neb, having charge
of the single pack-horse, the scout Bristoe, and the two cowboys of the
"Bar X," rough, wiry fellows, accustomed to exposure and peril. It was
emphatically a fighting outfit, and to be trusted in emergency.

They followed the cattle trail south toward the Salt Fork, as this
course would afford them a camp at the only water-hole in all that wide
desert lying between. With this certainty of water, they ventured to
press their animals to swifter pace, although the sand made travelling
heavy, and the trail itself was scarcely discernible. It was a hard,
wearisome ride, hour after hour through the same dull, dreary landscape
of desolation, the hot, remorseless sun beating down upon them,
reflecting up into their blistered faces from the hot surface of sand.
There was scarcely a breath of air, and the bodies of men and horses
were bathed in perspiration. Not a cloud hung in the blue sky; no wing
of a bird broke the monotony of distance, no living animal crept
across the blazing surface of the desert. Occasionally a distant mirage
attracted the eye, making the dead reality even more horrible by its
semblance to water, yet never tempting them to stray aside. After the
first mile conversation ceased, the men riding grimly, silently forward,
intent only on covering all the distance possible. Late that night they
camped at the water-hole, sleeping as best they could, scourged by the
chill wind which swept over them and lashed grit into exposed faces.
With the first gray of dawn they swung stiffened forms into the saddles
and rode on, straight as the crow flies, for the Salt Fork. They
attained that stream at sundown, gray with sand dust, their faces
streaked from perspiration, feeling as though the sun rays had burned
their brains, with horses fairly reeling under them. According to
Keith's calculation this cattle-ford must be fully ten miles below where
the cabin sought was situated; two hours' rest, with water and food,
would put both horses and men again in condition, and the travelling
was easier along the banks of the Fork. With this in m