"Good luck to you, Bat," said Endicott, with forced cheerfulness. The
Texan said never a word, but after a long look into the half-breed's
eyes, turned his head swiftly away.

Both Tex and Endicott slept fitfully, throwing the blankets from their
heads at frequent intervals to note the progress of the storm. Once
during the night the Texan visited the horses. The three saddle animals
stood hobbled with their heads close to the cut-bank, but the pack-horse
was gone. "Maybe you'll find it," he muttered, "but the best bet is, you
won't. I gave my horse his head for an hour before we camped, an' he
couldn't find it." Tex sat up after that, with his back to the wall of
the coulee. With the first hint of dawn Endicott joined him. The wind
roared with unabated fury as he crawled to the cowboy's side. He held up
the half-filled water flask and the Texan regarded him with red-rimmed
eyes.

"This water," asked the man, "it's for her, isn't it?" Tex nodded.
Without a word Endicott crawled to the side of the sleeping girl and
gently drew the blanket from her face. He carefully removed the cork
from the bottle and holding it close above the parched lips allowed a few
drops of the warm fluid to trickle between them. The lips moved and the
sleeping girl swallowed the water greedily. With infinite pains the man
continued the operation doling the precious water out a little at a time
so as not to waken her. At last the bottle was empty, and, replacing the
blanket, he returned to the Texan's side. "She wouldn't have taken it if
she had known," he whispered. "She would have made us drink some."

Tex nodded, with his eyes on the other's face.