Between him and the object of his quest the sand lay wrinkled in tiny drifts, with here and there a ragged gray bush leaning forlornly from the wind.

One wing of the machine was tilted, as though it had careened a little in the winds, but from that distance Johnny could not tell what damage had been done.
He kicked Sandy in the ribs and led the way down the hill.

Tomaso's brother, still grinning, followed close behind.
"It's going to be some sweet job getting the thing home," Johnny growled, trying to disguise his excitement.

"I expect I've had my trip for nothing.

She don't look to be in very good condition." The grin of Tomaso's brother changed its expression a bit, but he did not trouble to answer.