"

"How is your enthusiasm for that standing up?" chuckled Charley.

Roger cleared his throat. "You see, it's like this--" he began, his eyes
twinkling.

Charley interrupted by catching his arm. "Look, Roger! There's a sand
storm coming!"

Roger looked up the desert to the north. The familiar gray veil of sand
was plainly visible. "Lord!" he exclaimed. "We'd better start back at
once."

"No, we're within a mile of the spring, now," said Charley. "We'd better
get there as fast as we can. I do hope Gustav and Elsa will be all
right. That poor new field of alfalfa!"

"Perhaps it won't be so bad in the other valley. Certainly this sand is
going to try its best to suffocate us. Whew, there she comes!" as a
cloud of sand enveloped them.

They paused long enough to adjust their bandannas across their faces,
then started hurriedly on, Roger holding Charley by the hand and
catching Peter's lead rope firmly. In ten minutes the peak toward which
they were heading was obscured.

"Shall we stop or press on?" shouted Roger.

"Let Peter lead!" cried Charley. "If he stops, we'll stop."

Peter, shoved ahead of the little procession, did not hesitate. He
dropped his head between his knees and moved very slowly, but none the
less surely onward. The walking was almost incredibly difficult. The
very desert underfoot seemed in motion. New ridges rose before their
burning, half blinded eyes. The uproar was that of a hurricane roaring
through a forest. Now Roger would stagger to his knees: now Charley. But
Peter, lifting and planting his little feet gingerly and exactly, never
stumbled. Panting, sweating, Roger after what seemed hours of this going
halted Peter with some difficulty and putting his lips close to
Charley's ear called, "Having a pleasant walk to the county fair, my
dear?"

"Of its kind, it's perfect!" shrieked Charley in return and not to be
outdone.

As if thoroughly disgusted by such persiflage, Peter brayed and started
on without waiting to be urged. A moment later the footing became firmer
and Peter led the way around a rock heap and buried his nose in a tiny
pool that seemed thick with sand. Roger sighed with deep relief. He had
seen the desert strike too often now to face her ugly moods with full
equanimity.

There was no real shelter from the storm here. But it was vastly better
than the open desert. They found a hollowed rock facing the spring, just
big enough for the two of them to crouch with their bac