“Nope. There ain’t none there,” replied one of the men, shortly. “Plenty an’ fine water down the trail.”
“Thanks. Where you headed for?”
“Riverside. My gal hyar is sick an’ pinin’ fer home.”
Adam had been aware of the rather sharp scrutiny of these travelers and that they had exchanged whispers. Such procedures were natural on the desert, only in this case they struck Adam as peculiar. Then he shifted his gaze to the girl on the burro. He could not see her face, as it was bowed. Apparently she was weeping. She made a coarse, drab little figure. But her hair shone in the light of the setting sun—rather short and curly, a rich dark brown with glints of gold.
Adam replied to the curt good-by of the men, and after another glance at them, as they went on, he faced ahead to his own course. Then he heard low sharp words, “Shet up!” Wheeling, he was in time to see one of these men roughly shake the girl, and speak further words too low for Adam to distinguish. Adam’s natural conclusion was that the father had impatiently admonished the child for crying. Something made Adam hesitate and wonder; and presently, as he proceeded on his way, the same subtle something turned him round to watch the receding figures. Again he caught a gleam of sunlight from that girl’s glossy head.
“Humph! Somehow I don’t like the looks of those fellows,” muttered Adam. He was annoyed with himself, first for being so inquisitive, and secondly for not having gone over to take a closer look at them. Shaking his head, dissatisfied with himself, Adam trudged on.
“They said no water at the cottonwoods,” went on Adam. “No water when the peak is still white with snow. Either they lied or didn’t know.”
Adam turned again to gaze after the little party. He had nothing tangible upon which to hang suspicions. He went on, then wheeled about once more, realizing that the farther on he traveled the stronger grew his desire to look back. Suddenly the feeling cleared of its vagueness—no longer curiosity. It had been his thoughts that had inhibited him.
“I’ll go back,” said Adam. Tying his burros to greasewood bushes near the trail, he started to stride back over the ground he had covered. After a while he caught a glimmer of firelight through the darkness. They had made dry camp hardly five miles beyond the place where Adam had passed them.
It developed that these travelers had gone off the trail to camp in a wide, deep wash. Adam lost sight of the camp-fire glimmer, and had to hunt round until he came to the edge of the wash. A good-sized fire of greasewood and sage had been started, so that it would burn down to hot embers for cooking purposes. As Adam stalked out of the gloom into the camp he saw both men busy with preparations for the meal. The girl sat in a disconsolate attitude. She espied Adam before either of the men heard him. Adam saw her quiver and start erect. Not fright, indeed, was it that animated her. Suddenly one of the men rose, with his hand going to his hip.