aint idea," Luck drawled whimsically. "Look over
there, Andy over toward Albuquerque. Is that a mirage again, or do you
see something moving?"

Andy, having the glasses, swung them slowly to the southeast. After a
minute or two he shook his head and gave the glasses to Luck. "There
was one square look I got, and I'd been willing to swear it was our
saddle-bunch," he said. "And then they got to wobbling and I couldn't
make out what they are. They might be field mice, or they might be
giraffes--I'm darned if I know which."

Luck focussed the glasses, but whatever the objects had been, they were
no longer to be seen. So the two hours passed and they saw Applehead and
Lite come slowly up the hill from camp bearing their rifles and their
ropes and a canteen of fresh water, as the three things they might find
most use for.

These two settled themselves to watch for horses--their own range
horses. When they were relieved they reported nothing save a continued
inclination on the part of the atmosphere to be what Andy called miragy.
So, the day passed, chafing their spirits worse than any amount of
active trouble would have done. Pink slept and brooded by turns, still
blaming himself for the misfortune. The others moped, or took their
turns on the pinnacle to strain their eyes unavailingly into the four
corners of the earth--or as much as they could in those directions.

With the going of the sun Applehead and Lite, sitting out their second
guard on the pinnacle, discussed seriously the desperate idea of going
in the night to the nearest Navajo ranch and helping themselves to what
horses they could find about the place. The biggest obstacle was their
absolute ignorance of where the nearest ranch lay. Not, surely, that
half-day's ride back towards Albuquerque, where they had seen but one
pony and that a poor specimen of horseflesh. Another obstacle would be
the dogs, which could be quieted only with bullets.

"We might git hold of something to ride," Applehead stated glumly, "an'
then agin the chances is we wouldn't git nothin' more'n a scrap on our
hands. 'N' I'm tellin' yuh right now, Lite, I ain't hankerin' fer no
fuss till I git a hoss under me."

"Me either," Lite testified succinctly. "Say, is that something coming,
away up that draw the camp's in? Seems to me I saw something pass that
line of lava, about half a mile over."

Applehead stood up and peered into the half darkness. In a couple of
minutes he said: "Ye be