He says will you send a water-wagon or will you
send out a fresh party?"
Conniston's heart leaped at the man's first word. He knew then how he
had feared to know what they had found. And then it sank as fear
surged higher into it. They had not found her yet--already she had
been gone a whole day, a whole night, half the second day--
"Get a fresh horse and go back," he said, when the man waited for an
answer. "Tell Mundy that I am starting a six-horse wagon, carrying
water, right away. Tell him to keep on looking. You men keep close
enough together for the most part to be able to hear a gun fired from
the man nearest you. I'll send the wagon due north. You can pick it up
by the tracks."
The man rode away, and Conniston strode to the office.
"Tommy"--and his voice was steady and determined--"you'll have to get
into a buggy and watch the work this afternoon. I've got the men
started--and now I am going to her."
"All right, Greek," Garton answered, gently. "I can keep things
going."
Conniston turned and left him. He saddled his horse with eager
fingers, gave the order for the wagon carrying water to move steadily
northward until it came up with the men who had gone ahead, put a
lunch and a flask of whisky into his pocket, filled his own canteens,
and rode out across the hot sands.
"I am going to find her," he told himself, with quiet confidence.
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