will have to get
wet."

"Surely," replied Madeline; and she smiled at his inference. She knew
what a storm was in that country, and her guests had yet to experience
one. "If it rains, let it rain."

Stewart rode on, and Madeline followed. Up the slope toiled and nodded
the pack-animals, the little burros going easily where the horses
labored. Their packs, like the humps of camels, bobbed from side to
side. Stones rattled down; the heat-waves wavered black; the dust puffed
up and sailed. The sky was a pale blue, like heated steel, except where
dark clouds peeped over the mountain crests. A heavy, sultry atmosphere
made breathing difficult. Down the slope the trailing party stretched
out in twos and threes, and it was easy to distinguish the weary riders.

Half a mile farther up Madeline could see over the foothills to the
north and west and a little south, and she forgot the heat and
weariness and discomfort for her guests in wide, unlimited prospects of
sun-scorched earth. She marked the gray valley and the black mountains
and the wide, red gateway of the desert, and the dim, shadowy peaks,
blue as the sky they pierced. She was sorry when the bleak, gnarled
cedar-trees shut off her view.

Then there came a respite from the steep climb, and the way led in a
winding course through a matted, storm-wrenched forest of stunted trees.
Even up to this elevation the desert reached with its gaunt hand. The
clouds overspreading the sky, hiding the sun, made a welcome change. The
pack-train rested, and Stewart and Madeline waited for the party to come
up. Here he briefly explained to her that Don Carlos and his bandits had
left the ranch some time in the night. Thunder rumbled in the distance,
and a faint wind rustled the scant foliage of the cedars. The air grew
oppressive; the horses panted.

"Sure it'll be a hummer," said Stewart. "The first storm almost always
is bad. I can feel it in the air."

The air, indeed, seemed to be charged with a heavy force that was
waiting to be liberated.

One by one the couples mounted to the cedar forest, and the feminine
contingent declaimed eloquently for rest. But there was to be no
permanent rest until night and then that depended upon reaching the
crags. The pack-train wagged onward, and Stewart fell in behind. The
storm-center gathered slowly around the peaks; low rumble and howl of
thunder increased in frequence; slowly the light shaded as smoky clouds
rolled up; the air grew sul