one was bathing his face.

"He's coming to," said a voice in his ear. "By Jove, it was a narrow
shave. The other poor chap's done for, isn't he, Ned?"

"Quite dead. He went mad evidently, clean off his head. Why, the poor
chap had begun on his own grave."

When Anderson came to himself he found he had been picked up by the
other exploring party.

"We picked up your tracks away by the 'dead finish' there," said the
leader, "and I thought it must be pretty near up with you. You 've had
the devil's own luck, mate. Why, you were within five miles of Gerring
Gerring Water, and over by the 'dead finish' you passed within three
miles of a very decent waterhole, quite good enough to have kept life
within you. You shot the horse?"

"My mate did. He was mad, poor fellow."

"Poor beggar, he seems to have had a bad time, but it's all over now."

It was indeed all over now. They had wrapped him in a blanket and were
digging a shallow grave. He had begun it himself, they said, and had
been digging with his long knife, though whether it was for water, or
whether it was really intended for a grave, no one could now say. His
sufferings were ended.

They left him there in the desert, the young fellow who had fought so
hard for his life and set so much store by it, and as soon as Anderson
was a little recovered, set out for Yerlo again.

It was over a week before he reached the station, so far had he wandered
out of the track, and as he rode up to the house a stable boy lounged up
to him.

"What a while you 've been away, Boss," he said. "We 'd most given you
up for lost. The mail's in and there's a pile of letters for Mr. Helm.
None for you though."

"Is everything all right?" asked Anderson, feeling like a man who had
come back from the grave.

"N-o-o, there's mighty bad news. I don't like to tell though."

"Out with it, man, don't keep me waiting."

The lad looked away and turned his pipe from side of his mouth to the
other.

"It 's your youngster," he said. "He had convulsions last Sunday. Mrs.
Brook--she said as nothing couldn't have saved him. 'It was a blessed
release,' she said."

Anderson flung the reins to the lad and walked quietly into the house.
It was a mistake, he clearly saw, coming back from the grave. He wished
he had died within five miles of Gerring Gerring Water.

THE LOSS OF THE "VANITY

"You don't care. Oh! Susy, you don't care!

"But I do," she sobbed. "You know, you know I care."