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to look no more until he had counted fifty； a hundred； but always with the
same result； the return of the empty； unending plainsthe disk growing
redder as it neared the horizon； the fire it seemed to kindle as it sank； but
nothing more。
Staggering under his burden； he tried to distract himself by fancying
how the discovery of their absence would be made。 He heard the listless；
half…querulous discussion about the locality that regularly pervaded the
nightly camp。 He heard the discontented voice of Jake Silsbee as he
halted beside the wagon； and said； 〃Come out o' that now； you two； and
mighty quick about it。〃 He heard the command harshly repeated。 He
saw the look of irritation on Silsbee's dusty； bearded face； that followed his
hurried glance into the empty wagon。 He heard the query； 〃What's gone
o' them limbs now？〃 handed from wagon to wagon。 He heard a few
oaths； Mrs。 Silsbee's high rasping voice； abuse of himself； the hurried and
discontented detachment of a search party； Silsbee and one of the hired
men； and vociferation and blame。 Blame always for himself； the elder；
who might have 〃known better！〃 A little fear； perhaps； but he could not
fancy either pity or commiseration。 Perhaps the thought upheld his pride；
under the prospect of sympathy he might have broken down。
At last he stumbled； and stopped to keep himself from falling forward
on his face。 He could go no further； his breath was spent； he was
dripping with perspiration； his legs were trembling under him； there was a
roaring in his ears； round red disks of the sun were scattered everywhere
around him like spots of blood。 To the right of the trail there seemed to
be a slight mound where he could rest awhile； and yet keep his watchful
survey of the horizon。 But on reaching it he found that it was only a
tangle of taller mesquite grass； into which he sank with his burden。
Nevertheless； if useless as a point of vantage； it offered a soft couch for
Susy； who seemed to have fallen quite naturally into her usual afternoon
siesta； and in a measure it shielded her from a cold breeze that had sprung
up from the west。 Utterly exhausted himself； but not daring to yield to
the torpor that seemed to be creeping over him； Clarence half sat； half
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knelt down beside her； supporting himself with one hand； and； partly
hidden in the long grass； kept his straining eyes fixed on the lonely track。
The red disk was sinking lower。 It seemed to have already crumbled
away a part of the distance with its eating fires。 As it sank still lower； it
shot out long； luminous rays； diverging fan…like across the plain； as if； in
the boy's excited fancy； it too were searching for the lost estrays。 And as
one long beam seemed to linger over his hiding…place； he even thought
that it might serve as a guide to Silsbee and the other seekers； and was
constrained to stagger to his feet； erect in its light。 But it soon sank； and
with it Clarence dropped back again to his crouching watch。 Yet he knew
that the daylight was still good for an hour； and with the withdrawal of that
mystic sunset glory objects became even more distinct and sharply defined
than at any other time。 And with the merciful sheathing of that flaming
sword which seemed to have swayed between him and the vanished train；
his eyes already felt a blessed relief。
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CHAPTER III
With the setting of the sun an ominous silence fell。 He could hear
the low breathing of Susy； and even fancied he could hear the beating of
his own heart in that oppressive hush of all nature。 For the day's march had
always been accompanied by the monotonous creaking of wheels and
axles； and even the quiet of the night encampment had been always more
or less broken by the movement of unquiet sleepers on the wagon beds； or
the breathing of the cattle。 But here there was neither sound nor motion。
Susy's prattle； and even the sound of his own voice； would have broken
the benumbing spell； but it was a part of his growing self…denial now that
he refrained from waking her even by a whisper。 She would awaken
soon enough to thirst and hunger； perhaps； and then what was he to do？ If
that looked…for help would only come nowwhile she still slept。 For it was
part of his boyish fancy that if he could deliver her asleep and
undemonstrative of fear and suffering； he would be less blameful； and she
less mindful of her trouble。 If it did not come but he would not think of
that yet！ If she was thirsty meantime well； it might rain； and there was
always the dew which they used to brush off the morning grass； he would
take off his shirt and catch it in that； like a shipwrecked mariner。 It
would be funny； and make her laugh。 For himself he would not laugh； he
felt he was getting very old and grown up in this loneliness。
It was getting darkerthey should be looking into the wagons now。 A
new doubt began to assail him。 Ought he not； now that he was rested；
make the most of the remaining moments of daylight； and before the glow
faded from the west； when he would no longer have any bearings to guide
him？ But there was always the risk of waking her！to what？ The fear
of being confronted again with HER fear and of being unable to pacify her；
at last decided him to remain。 But he crept softly through the grass； and in
the dust of the track traced the four points of the compass； as he could still
determine them by the sunset light； with a large printed W to indicate the
west！ This boyish contrivance particularly pleased him。 If he had only
had a pole； a stick； or even a twig； on which to tie his handkerchief and
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erect it above the clump of mesquite as a signal to the searchers in case
they should be overcome by fatigue or sleep； he would have been happy。
But the plain was barren of brush or timber； he did not dream that this
omission and the very unobtrusiv