ought before I start writing the
story."

"There isn't much time," warned Helen, and Janet knew that her companion
was right.

Ten days--sometimes it seemed like an endless length of time; then again
it vanished like magic and she had a feeling that this might be the
case.

Some members of the company left the bus and walked around to stretch
their legs; the others remained quietly in their seats, only a few of
them talking for they were glad the strain of making the picture was at
an end.

Janet sniffed the late afternoon air. There seemed to be a faint odor of
smoke, but she decided some of the men in the company must be smoking
nearby.

The heat abated somewhat as they waited for the driver to repair the
engine and a sharp breeze swept down out of the hills sending little
swirls of dust dancing along the winding road ahead of them.

Helen leaned close to her companion.

"Smell smoke?" she asked.

"Not now, but I thought I did a few minutes ago," replied Janet.

"I'm sure I can now," went on Helen, sniffing intently.

Janet thought she caught another whiff of smoke, but she couldn't be
sure.

Curt Newsom, who had been trying to help repair the engine, came back
along the bus. His face was smudged with grime and dirt and his hands
were covered with grease. He raised one of them and motioned for Janet
and Helen to join him. The girls left their seats and walked down the
bus, Curt meeting them at the doorway.

"Come on," he said sharply and in a manner that was little like his own.

He strode away through the dry grass, which crackled like tinder under
his boots. He was a good fifty yards away from the bus and far beyond
earshot when he stopped and faced the girls.

"It will be hours before that bus can be repaired," he told them.
"Someone will have to go back to the ranch or the nearest village and
phone for another vehicle to come out from the city."

The freshening breeze stirred up a cloud of dust which enveloped them
for a moment. Curt sneezed heavily and then sniffed.

"Smell anything?" There was desperate intentness in his question.

Janet and Helen wrinkled their noses and sniffed eagerly.

Helen shook her head.

"Not now, but a while ago I thought I smelled smoke."

"So did I," added Janet. "It was kind of like tobacco smoke and then it
wasn't."

Curt shook his head. "I'm afraid it isn't tobacco smoke. I've been
getting whiffs of it right along. Smells like a brush fire to me, but I