DeWitt smiled. It appealed to the tenderest part of his nature that the girl who had led him through the terrible experiences of the desert should show fear now that a haven was reached.
"Come on, little girl," he said.
Painfully, for they both were weak and dizzy, they clambered to a gaunt opening in the gray wall. Rhoda clutched John's arm with a little scream as a bat whirred close by them. Within the opening DeWitt scratched one of his carefully hoarded matches. The tiny flare revealed a small adobe-walled room, quite bare save for broken bits of pottery on the floor. John lighted a handful of greasewood and by its brilliant light they examined the floor and walls.
"What a clean, dry little room!" exclaimed Rhoda. "Oh, I am so tired and sleepy!"
"Let's look a little farther before we stop. What's on the other side of this broken wall?"
They picked their way across the litter of pottery and peered into another room, the duplicate of the first.
"How will these do for our respective sleeping-rooms?" asked DeWitt.
Rhoda stared at John with horror in her eyes.
"I'd as soon sleep in a tomb! Let's make a fire outside and sleep under the stars. I'd rather have sleep than food just now."
"It will have to be just a tiny smudge, up behind this débris, where Kut-le can't spot it," answered DeWitt. "I won't mind having a red eye of fire for company. It will help to keep me awake."