"None of us knows where to look for them, and we haven't much time to spare for hunting."
"That's so," Harding agreed. "What's your plan?"
"I'm in favor of heading southwest. It may mean an extra hundred miles, or more, but it would bring us nearer the Stony village, and afterward the logging camp on the edge of the timber, where we might get supplies."
"It's understood that the Indians are often half starved in winter," Benson reminded him. "For all that, they might have had good luck; and, anyway, we couldn't cross the prairie with an empty grubsack. My vote's for striking off to the west."
Harding concurred, though his leg had threatened further trouble during the last day or two, and he would have preferred the shorter route.
"What about the petroleum?" Blake asked.
"We can't stop to look for it unless we can lay in a good stock of food, and I don't suppose we could do much prospecting with the snow on the ground," Harding paused with a thoughtful air. "When we reach the settlement I must go home, but if the money can be raised, I'll be back as soon as the thaw comes, to try for the oil, Clarke's an unusually smart man, and there's no doubt he's on the trail."
"We'll raise enough money somehow," Benson declared.
Harding smiled.
"Yes, we'll raise the money somehow," he agreed. "It has been my experience that when you want a thing badly enough, there's always some way to get it."