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Page 56
"No!" answered the guide with emphasis. "Give the calf enough rope
and he'll hang himself. Saddle up and we'll ride that way and have
a look at the trail again."
The watcher disappeared as the Overlanders were saddling their
ponies. As before, the guide made no comment after he had examined
the hoof-prints left by the observer's pony, and the journey was
resumed.
The days drew on, and the Overlanders, now more used to the
hardships and heat of traveling on the desert, began to take a
real pleasure in the work, to enjoy the free life and the
excitement that came to them in one form or another nearly every
day. Now and then a day would pass without water, but they made
the best of it, having confidence that Hi Lang would find it in
time, no matter how dark the outlook. The mysterious horseman had
appeared several times, always too far away to enable them to get
a good look at him. Occasionally Hi would go out for a look at the
pony's trail, but it was not until they were nearing the mountain
ranges, after three weeks of journeying across the hot sands, that
the guide gave a direct answer to a direct question as to whether
or not he knew what the mysterious one was up to. Hippy had asked
the question when they were at supper one evening.
"I don't know what he's up to, of course," replied Hi Lang. "I do
know that he is the same fellow who left the range after we folks
were shot at there, for the hoof-prints of his pony are the same.
He is watching us, and we'll hear from him later," he declared
impressively.
CHAPTER XVI
THE CROSS ON THE DESERT
"You should have let me take a shot at him when I had the chance,"
grumbled Hippy.
"Time enough to shoot when we are shot at," rebuked Grace. "We are
not starting trouble, but when it comes we know how to meet it. Do
we not, Mr. Lang?"
Hi Lang nodded enthusiastically.
Grace had been practicing persistently with her Mexican lasso, and
was now beginning to learn to rope a pony. That is, she had
succeeded, when riding alongside a trotting pony who objected to
being caught, in casting the lasso over its head, but so far as
catching the hind foot of a moving bronco with her loop, that was
far beyond her. Grace doubted if she ever would gain sufficient
skill to do that.
Elfreda, too, was an apt pupil and not far behind her companion in
casting the rope. She was glorying in the life of the west, which
was becoming more and more alluring to her as the days passed.
"Two days more and we'll be in the foothills of the Specters.
Maybe you will be able to rope a wildcat there," said the guide,
smiling at the two girls.
"Four-or two-legged?" inquired Hippy.
"Possibly both. After we get cooled off in the mountains, if you
folks think you wish to go on down into the Colorado Desert, I
will show you some real desert heat. By comparison, this desert is
as cool as a summer resort."
Grace said they would discuss their future movements after they
had rested up a bit in the mountains. All the girls were looking
forward to the mountains where shade, spring water and cooling
breezes awaited them. Some of them were filled with curiosity as
to what else awaited them there, having in mind the prophecy of
the desert rider whom they had succored.
It was with thoughts of the mountains, and with eager eyes
searching the horizon ahead, that the Overland Riders set out for
their day's journey on the following morning. A brief stop was
made at noon for a cup of tea and biscuits, after which the daily
search for a water hole was begun. As night approached, the search
became more intensive, but it was not until after nightfall that a
tank was found.
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