"They'll get tired watchin' after a while," replied the leader. "'Tony was just here."
"I don't care if he's in h—l," retorted Hall. "He'll peach on us to save his mangy skin, one of these days."
"We've got to chance it."
"Where's Frisco?"
"Down to Eagle for grub to tide us over for a few days."
"Huh!" exclaimed Hall. "Everything considered we're goin' to fight like th' devil out here someday. Down to Eagle!"
"We can fight!" retorted Shaw. "An' if we has to run for it, there's th' desert."
"I'd ruther die right here fighting than on that desert," remarked Cavalry, shuddering. "When I go I want to go quick, an' not be tortured for 'most a week." He had an insistent and strong horror of that gray void of sand and alkali so near at hand and so far across. He was nervous and superstitious, and it seemed always to be calling him. Many nights he had awakened in a cold sweat because he had dreamed it had him, and often it was all he could do to resist going out to it.
Shaw laughed gratingly. "You don't like it, do you?"
Hall smiled and walked towards the slanting trail.