We'll tap two cans an' save one an' the water--the flask's
half full yet."
Never in her life, thought Alice, as she and Endicott shared their can of
tomatoes, had she tasted anything half so good. The rich red pulp and
the acid juice, if it did not exactly quench the burning thirst, at least
made it bearable, and in a few minutes she fell asleep protected from the
all pervading dust by one of the wet blankets. The storm roared on. At
the end of a couple of hours Bat rose and silently saddled his horse.
"A'm gon' for fin' dat water-hole," he said, when the task was completed.
"If de sto'm stop, a'right. If it don' stop, you gon' on in de mornin'."
He placed one of the empty tomato cans in his slicker, and as he was
about to mount both Endicott and Tex shook his hand.
"Good luck to you, Bat," said Endicott, with forced cheerfulness. The
Texan said never a word, but after a long look into the half-breed's
eyes, turned his head swiftly away.
Both Tex and Endicott slept fitfully, throwing the blankets from their
heads at frequent intervals to note the progress of the storm. Once
during the night the Texan visited the horses. The three saddle animals
stood hobbled with their heads close to the cut-bank, but the pack-horse
was gone. "Maybe you'll find it," he muttered, "but the best bet is, you
won't.
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