I 've been expectin' that wind to shift nor'east all day--then we'll get it." He got down on his knees, endeavoring to decipher some faint marks on the sand.

"Two of 'em dismounted yere, an Injun an' a white--a big feller by his hoof prints--an' they went on leadin' their hosses.

Goin' into camp, I reckon--sure, here's the spot now.

Well, I 'll be damned!" Both men stood staring--under protection of a sand ridge was a little blackened space where some mesquite chips had been burned, and all about it freshly trampled sand, and slight impressions where men had outstretched themselves.

Almost at Wasson's feet fluttered a pink ribbon, and beyond the fire circle lay the body of a man, face up to the sky.