The Forbidden Trail

"We'll see how things are after we get settled," said Roger, carefully. "Have a cigar and tell me how you came to know Mr. Werner."

"I clerked by a bank he vas interested in," replied Schmidt, settling himself with the cigar. Roger and Ernest liked him at once, from his stiff brown pompadour and kindly blue eyes behind his spectacles to his strong, capable looking hands. Before they parted for the night it was agreed that Schmidt would come back with them when they came in for the freight. Austin had warned them that help was almost impossible to get in the desert and this seemed a wise thing to do.

The sun had not risen the next morning when the three climbed aboard the heavily laden wagon and started along the trail Hackett had carefully described for them.

It was not a smooth trail. Even the first eight or ten miles, mentioned with pride by the baggage man, were cut with draws and strewed with heavy rocks. But the air was like a northern May. The cactus was full of singing northern birds preparing for their spring migration. The horses plodded steadily without urging. The mountains lifted in colors ever more marvelous and the Adventure seemed to Roger satisfactory beyond expression.

"I think it's beautiful, Ern," he said at last.

"Gad, I don't," replied Ernest, wiping sand out of his eyes.

"I do!" cried Felicia, jouncing up and down on the wagon seat between the men. She was powdered white with sand. "Charley will c'lapse when she sees me."

The horses were used to desert going. The tenderfoot drivers let them have their own way. Hackett had tried to describe certain landmarks along the route so that they could gauge the distance covered, but with small effect on Ernest and Roger. All points of the desert looked alike to them. They only knew that if they followed the trail north long enough, they would strike Prebles' late that night.

Just at sundown, however, Roger pulled in the horses. "That trail's getting awfully faint," he said.

"Sand's drifted like snow across it," agreed Ernest. "In fact, there hasn't been any trail for the last mile. But we can't miss our way. That white peak with three points is at right angles anyhow to us, as it ought to be."

Roger started the horses on, but after a short time stopped again.

"I'm not going on till we locate the trail," he announced.

"What are you going to do? Not stay here all night," protested Ernest.

"You bet I am. Ernest, we're off the track right now. We won't be able to find the trail until daylight."