Far along the sandy road was a man trudging along with a bundle over his shoulder.
"That ain't no desert man," said Matt quietly.
"How can you tell from here?" asked Bet.
"You can always tell a desert man by his walk. That fellow looks as if he were used to walking on city streets," Matt returned.
"And he hasn't even a burro," exclaimed Kit contemptuously. "Let's give him a lift and see what he's doing here so far from civilization."
The man ahead had turned at the sound of the automobile, deposited his bundle on the ground and stood waiting expectantly.
The girls smiled as they greeted him. His clothes, a neat business suit and light colored shirt, were soiled, his face was streaked with dust but in his eyes there was that indefinable gleam that marks the soul of an adventurer. He was offered a lift.
"I'm very dusty," said the traveller.
"We don't mind at all," answered the girls. They liked the little man with his far-away look as if he belonged to another world and were seeing sights that no one around him was seeing.
"Isn't he a dear!" whispered Bet. "I like him!"