Camp was made by the saline lake that night, however.
Darkness settled down thickly and to enliven the dullness of the hour, Pomp brought out his banjo and Barney his fiddle.
They played very well together, and as the melodies from the two instruments floated forth upon the air, it did much to dispel the natural feeling of desolation peculiar to the region.
Frank Reade, Jr., thus far had not dreamed of danger.
Nothing had been seen to warrant the assumption that there was another human being within fifty miles.
Some hungry coyotes came snapping and snarling about the wagon.
Barney put one of them out of the way with his revolver and this for a time silenced the rest.
But as the hour of midnight drew nearer Frank began to think of sleep.
He had hardly stretched himself out upon the bunk, however, when a startling thing occurred.
Suddenly Barney dropped his fiddle and sprung up.