proceeded to build the fire. "We'll rustle around and get supper out of
the way an' the outfit packed an' we can pull our freight as soon as it's
light enough. The moon ought to show up by half-past ten or eleven, an'
we can make the split rock water-hole before it gets too hot for the
horses to travel. It's the hottest spell for June I ever saw and if she
don't let up tomorrow the range will be burnt to a frazzle."

Bat cast a weather-wise eye toward the sky which, cloudless, nevertheless
seemed filmed with a peculiar haze that obscured the million lesser stars
and distorted the greater ones, so that they showed sullen and angry and
dull like the malignant pustules of a diseased skin.

"A'm t'ink she gon' for bus' loose pret' queek."

"Another thunder storm and a deluge of rain?" asked Alice.

The half-breed shrugged: "I ain' know mooch 'bout dat. I ain' t'ink she
feel lak de rain. She ain' feel good."

"Leave off croakin', Bat, an' get to work an' pack," growled the Texan.
"There'll be plenty time to gloom about the weather when it gets here."
An hour later the outfit was ready for the trail.

"Wish we had one of them African water-bags," said the cowboy, as he
filled his flask at the spring. "But I guess this will do 'til we strike
the water-hole."

"Where is that whiskey bottle?" asked Endicott. "We could take a chance
on snake-bite, dump out the booze, and use the bottle for water."