"Oh, it's some of that occult rot, I don't doubt," groaned Roger. "Charley, stay till the fellows come. I'm frightened."
"On the contrary," laughed Charley, "I'm going to get us all an early supper and put those burros to bed before dark."
She was as good as her word. The afterglow had not faded from the sky when Roger returned to the camp, after helping Charley with her chores. His guest had retired to her tent and Roger withdrew to his and threw himself down on his cot to await the return of Dick and Ernest.
It was midnight when the teams rattled into camp. Roger hastened out at once.
"We'll unhitch and leave both wagons here to unload in the morning," said Ernest.
Dick already was silently unchecking his horses, returning only a grunt to Roger's greeting.
"I'll go with you, Dick, and take our team to the corral," said Roger.
"Don't be a fool!" growled Dick. "I'll take them without any help. If I've got to board 'em, I'll do the work for 'em. Don't you butt in!" He mounted one of his own horses and stringing the others behind, he rode off under the starlight.
"For the Lord's sake!" exclaimed Roger, following Ernest into the tent, "what's the matter with Dick?"
Ernest tossed a pile of mail onto the trunk beside the candle. "I haven't the remotest idea. He was as jolly as usual when we had our supper at sunset. About an hour ago I spoke to him and he took my head off. I haven't tried him since. Sweet for poor Charley."