"Better go in and read something, Mrs. Newman. You mustn't worry
yourself sick until you are sure you have something to worry about."

How she passed the rest of the night, Katherine never knew. A little
after midnight, Jack came in, his face tense and anxious. Katherine
paled as she saw his expression. She knew he had met some of the
searchers. When Jack saw the color leave his wife's pretty cheeks, he
kissed her very tenderly and for a moment they clung to each other
silently, thinking of the delicate girl adrift on the desert.

"Where is John DeWitt?" asked Katherine after a moment.

"He's almost crazy. He's with Dick Freeman. Only stopped for a fresh
horse."

"They have no trace?" questioned Katherine.

Jack shook his head.

"You know what a proposition it is to hunt for as small an object as a
human, in the desert. Give me your smelling salts and the little
Navajo blanket. One--one can't tell whether she's hurt or not."

Katherine began to sob as she obeyed.

"You are all angel good not to blame me, but I know it's my fault. I
shouldn't have let her go. But she is so sensible, usually."

"Dear heart!" said Jack, rolling up the Navajo. "Any one that knows