Below, a scant half mile away, were the only trees visible, a scraggly grove of cottonwoods, while down the face of the bluff and across the flat ran the slender ribbon of trail.

Monotonous, unchanging, it was a desolate picture to watch day after day in the hot summer.
In the gloom following an early supper the two officers sat together in the single room of the cabin, a candle sputtering on the table behind them, smoking silently or moodily discussing the situation.

McDonald was florid and heavily built, his gray mustache hanging heavily over a firm mouth, while the Captain was of another type, tall, with dark eyes and hair.

The latter by chance opened the important topic.
"By the way, Major," he said carelessly, "I guess it is just as well you stopped your daughter from coming out to this hole.

Lord, but it would be an awful place for a woman." "But I did n't," returned the other moodily.