The fellows
that go out have got to be used to desert work, like me." Harden
scratched a match and by its unsteady light scrutinized the detail map
spread open on his knee.
"Isn't Miss Allen working nearer than eighty miles from here?" asked
Agnew.
"She's in the Hopi country, whatever distance that may be," replied
Enoch. "I should suppose it would be rather risky trying to catch some
one who is moving about, as she is."
"I guess maybe she's on her way to the Ferry now." Jonas straightened
up from his stew pot. "Leastways, Na-che kind of promised to kind of
see if maybe they couldn't reach there about the time we did."
The other men laughed. "I guess we won't gamble too heavily on the
women folks," exclaimed Forrester.
"I guess Miss Allen's the kind you don't connect gambling with,"
retorted Agnew.
Enoch cut in hastily. "Then two of us are to go out. What about those
who stay?"
"Well, you have to get my helpless carcass aboard the Ida and we'll
make our way to the Ferry, as rapidly as we can. The food problem is
serious, but we won't starve in four days. We won't attempt any more
hunting expeditions but we may pot something as we go along. It's the
fellows who go out who'll have the worst of it.
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