Grace Harlowe's Overland Riders on the Great American Desert Part 27

"You are so successful in unraveling the mysteries of nature that you surely should be able to discover water even where there isn't any."

"What are you driving at, Mrs. Gray?"

"I have an idea that you solved at least one mystery this morning."

Hi Lang flushed a little under his tan and shook his head.

"There's no use trying to keep anything from you, and there's no reason that I know of, why I should. No one is buried in that place where we found the box. The cross was set up to keep people away so they wouldn't find the box with the gold and the map. It was my idea that we should find it to be so. How did you know?"

"I saw what you had been doing," answered Grace. "What do you think is the most important contents of the box, the gold?"

"No. I reckon the map might be a sight more valuable than the handful of gold if one knew where to find the place that the map pictures. There's a heap of bad actors down this way, Mrs. Gray.

They are regular land pirates. We call them desert pirates. They'd murder a man for two bits, and I reckon that maybe they had something to do with that place back there, and that the fellow who owned the map, when he saw the pirates coming, buried it so they shouldn't find it."

"Then this is another mystery for us to solve, Mr. Lang--the mystery of the buried map. I suppose you have discovered that the girls of the Overland Riders are possessed of the usual curiosity of their s.e.x, have you not?"

Hi laughed silently.

"You've got a poser this time. 'Fraid your curiosity won't be gratified, so far as that map is concerned, but I reckon you'll find so much doing before long that you will forget all about this particular mystery. We are not being watched out of mere curiosity, Mrs. Gray," declared the guide.

"I am well aware of that, Mr. Lang," replied Grace Harlowe gravely.

CHAPTER XVIII

AN OLD INDIAN TRICK

It was the most trying day of their journey that the Overlanders were experiencing, because of the heat and the fact that they were getting further and further below sea level. The heat was a lifeless heat, and the members of the outfit found themselves nodding and swaying in their saddles, keeping awake only by much effort.

"Water only five miles away," called Hippy Wingate late in the afternoon in a cheerful voice. "Wake up, Overlanders! Hi says we will be there before sundown."

A little later the party broke into a gallop, leaving Ping Wing and his lazy burros far to the rear of them. They were now crossing that arid region known as the Pahute Mesa, and, just over the horizon, lay a series of broken mountain ranges, wild, cut off from civilization, and shunned by all save those whose duty, fancy or love of adventure called them there. On beyond these the desert again took up its monotonous reach, hotter, more deadly than before. Just now, however, the thoughts of the Overland Riders were on the water hole for which they were heading, and, next in importance, the cool mountain ranges. Hi Lang beckoned to Grace to ride up to him.

"What is it, Mr. Lang?" she asked.

"Please caution the young ladies to be sparing of the water."

"Why, it isn't possible that we are short of water," protested Grace.

"We may be."

"Will you please explain? Your words intimate that you may have discovered something."

"I saw dust rising from the desert over yonder, a short time ago.

It moved along in a little cloud to the westward and finally disappeared."

"Do you think it was our mysterious horseman?" asked Grace.

"Maybe. There was more than one horse, as I could tell from the dust kicked up."

Grace asked what relation that had to the shortage of water.

"Just this, Mrs. Gray. That cloud rose--and I saw it the instant it appeared--from about where the tank that we are heading for should be. That's all. Of course I don't know what those folks were doing there, but I am warning you to go easy on the water."

Grace thanked him and rode over to her companions to caution them to be sparing of the water, saying that it were possible that they might be short of it, though Grace confessed to herself that she did not see how even a visit of the desert "pirates" to a water hole possibly could prevent her outfit from getting sufficient water for their use. Of course, if there were but little water in the tank it might take a long time to get enough for the ponies.

"Something has occurred, has it not?" questioned Elfreda in a tone barely loud enough for Grace to hear.

"Mr. Lang saw a cloud of dust that aroused his suspicion. The guide has something of an imagination," added Grace, smiling at her perspiring companion.

After a little Hi Lang ordered the party to drop into a slower pace, saying that he wished to save the ponies so far as possible.

"Dismount, but wait before you unpack," directed the guide, when the party arrived at the water hole.

"Girls, please stay where you are for the present," called Grace.

"What's the big idea?" demanded Hippy Wingate.

"Mr. Lang wishes to see if any one has been here. He thought he saw a dust cloud in this direction this afternoon and desires to have a look around, so don't stamp about and destroy the trail, if there is such a thing," admonished Grace.

Hi Lang got down in the water hole, and for a few moments was out of their sight. He rose finally and clambered out, his face wearing a stern expression, and Grace saw at once that the guide was trying desperately to control his temper.

Without so much as looking at the Overlanders, Hi Lang began nosing about, now and then bending over to peer at the ground, stepping cautiously, following a crooked course, all of which excited Hippy Wingate's merriment.

"He works just like a dog does when the rabbit season opens,"

declared the lieutenant. "What's he up to?"

"Looking for trouble," suggested Emma.

Hi followed the trail he had picked up some little distance out on the desert, which the light of the full moon enabled him to do. He then stood up and gazed at the sky for a brief moment.

"Unsaddle and make camp," he directed tersely.

"Did you find what you expected?" asked Grace.

"Yes. I'll tell you about it as soon as we make camp."

"How's the water?" called Hippy.

"There isn't a drop in the tank, Lieutenant. Ping, you will give the ponies about a quart apiece from our supply, no more. We will stake down now."

Camp was quickly made and the bacon was frying over a small, flickering cook-fire a few moments afterward. Efforts to be merry at supper that night were a failure, and Hi Lang was unusually taciturn.

"May we hear the worst now, Mr. Lang?" asked Grace as they finished the meal.