As Roger brooded, his eyes fell on the engine house and a carefully locked shed beside it. His face brightened. He got stiffly to his feet and plodded up to the window of the engine house, raised it and clambered within. A great engine shrouded with greasy canvas lay in the dusky room. It was a gas-producer type, in excellent condition. Roger went over it as tenderly and eagerly as a horseman goes over a thoroughbred racer. Then he went through the open door into the shed adjoining. It was full of oil drums, some of them empty but with a sufficient number filled to more than satisfy Roger's needs.
He suddenly began to whistle cheerfully, went over the engine again and was still whistling when he climbed out of the window and sat down on the bench to eat his lunch. When he had finished eating he lighted his pipe and sat smoking at ease. Life was not so bad, by Jove! One could make the desert his if one had resourcefulness and courage. As soon as Dick's horses were rested after their return from Archer's Springs, they must start hauling oil. Of course, though, that beastly re-seeding would have to be done first. Roger's shoulders twitched impatiently and he started abruptly homeward.
The sun had set, when weary beyond words, he reached the Sun Plant.
"Well! Did you run across the Von Mindens?" was Ernest's greeting.
"No! What's happened?"
"We don't know. The old lady was so long coming out of her tent that toward noon I investigated, to find that she was no longer with us. I went up to Prebles' and Charley reported that two of the madam's burros were missing this morning as well as the pack ropes. We think that she hit out in the night and is trailing the old boy up in the ranges. He started off early, serene in the thought that she was down here. Charley didn't mention the burros to him."
"Well, thank heaven for small favors!" exclaimed Roger. "She certainly got on my nerves."
"Did you find oil?" asked Gustav.
"Yes, I unearthed a fine cache of it. I wish you folks could see the outfit up there on Snake Peak," and he told them what he had found.
"But you aren't going to annex that oil until you hear from the owners?" exclaimed Ernest.
"You write to the owners, when we get it here, enclosing a check for the oil at market rates. I may have trouble, but I doubt it."
They were sitting as usual before their tent smoking their good night pipes.
"You will get into trouble, Rog," warned Ernest. "Impatience is all right and good driving power, but what's the use of laying yourself open to difficulties?"