A wonderful passion radiated from him. Adam saw a quiver run over the huge frame. This Dismukes evidently was as extraordinary in character as in appearance. Adam felt the man’s strangeness, his intelligence, and the inflexible will and fiery spirit. Yet all at once Adam felt steal over him an emotion of pity that he could not understand. How strange men were!
At this juncture the prospector was compelled to drive the burros out of camp. Then he attended to his cooking over the fire, and presently brought a bowl of steaming food to Adam.
“Eat this slow—with a spoon,” he said, gruffly. “Never forget that a man starved for grub or water can kill himself quick.”
During Adam’s long-drawn-out meal the sun set and the mantle of heat seemed to move away for the coming of shadows. Adam found that his weakness was greater than he had supposed, rendering the effort of sitting up one he was glad to end. He lay back on the blankets, wanting to think over his situation rather than fall asleep, but he found himself very drowsy, and his mind vaguely wandered until it was a blank. Upon awakening he saw the first gray of dawn arch the sky. He felt better, almost like his old self, except for that queer sensation of thinness and lightness, most noticeable when he lifted his hand. Dismukes was already astir, and there, a few rods from camp, stood the ludicrous burros, as if they had not moved all night. Adam got up and stretched his limbs, pleased to find that he appeared to be all right again, except for a little dizziness.
Dismukes evinced gladness at the fact of Adam’s improvement. “Good!” he exclaimed. “You’d be strong enough to ride a burro to-day. But it’s goin’ to be hot, like yesterday. We’d better not risk travelin’.”
“How do you know it’s going to be as hot as yesterday?” inquired Adam.
“I can tell by the feel an’ smell of the air, an’ mostly that dull lead-colored haze you see over the mountains.”
Adam thought the air seemed cool and fresh, but he did see a dull pall over the mountains. Farther toward the east, where the sunrise lifted an immense and wondrous glow, this haze was not visible.
The remark of Dismukes anent the riding of a burro disturbed Adam. This kindly prospector meant to take him on to his destination. Impossible! Adam had fled to the desert to hide, and the desert must hide him, alive or dead. The old, thick, clamoring emotions knocked at his heart. Adam felt gratitude toward Dismukes for not questioning him, and that forbearance made him want to tell something of his story. Yet how reluctant he was to open his lips on that score! He helped Dismukes with the simple morning meal, and afterward with odds and ends of tasks, all the time cheerful and questioning, putting off what he knew was inevitable. The day did come on hot—so hot that life was just bearable for men and beasts in the shade of the big ironwood tree. Adam slept some of the hours away. He awoke stronger, with more active mind. Of the next meal Dismukes permitted Adam to eat heartily. And later, while Dismukes smoked and Adam sat before the camp fire, the moment of revelation came, quite unexpectedly.
“Wansfell, you’ll not be goin’ to Yuma with me to-morrow,” asserted Dismukes quietly.