They continued their rounds. The sun was very hot and the dust deep. A woman would have known that these things distressed Estrella. She picked her way through the debris; she dropped her head from the burning; she felt her delicate garments moistening with perspiration, her hair dampening; the dust sifted up through the air. Over in the large corral a bronco buster, assisted by two of the cowboys, was engaged in roping and throwing some wild mustangs. The sight was wonderful, but here the dust billowed in clouds.
"I'm getting a little hot and tired," she confessed at last. "I think I'll go to the house."
But near the shed she stopped again, interested in spite of herself by a bit of repairing Tommy had under way. The tire of a wagon wheel had been destroyed. Tommy was mending it. On the ground lay a fresh cowhide. From this Tommy was cutting a wide strip. As she watched he measured the strip around the circumference of the wheel.
"He isn't going to make a tire of that!" she exclaimed, incredulously.
"Sure," replied Senor Johnson.
"Will it wear?"
"It'll wear for a month or so, till we can get another from town."
Estrella advanced and felt curiously of the rawhide. Tommy was fastening it to the wheel at the ends only.
"But how can it stay on that way?" she objected. "It'll come right off as soon as you use it."
"It'll harden on tight enough."