"How could any one know?
We all but died of thirst getting back across the desert--the wind rubbed out our tracks; we laid up at Soledad Springs a week before any one saw us; when we finally went in to Cobre no one knew where we had been, that we had found anything, or even that we'd been looking for anything.

How could any one know ?" "This breakfast is getting cold," said Pete Johnson.

"Good grub hurts no one.

Let's eat it.

Then I'll let a little ray of intelligence filter into your darkened mind." Breakfast finished, Stan piled the tin dishes with a clatter.