had recovered the horse for Helen, and the horse
now was within sound of his voice, did he but care
to lift it. His physical hurts would get well, his
spiritual hurts never without the recovery of the
horse. And now he had the horse.

One morning it became apparent that their food-supplies
would soon need replenishing. So it was
decided to break camp for the nearest town, a
Mexican settlement some eighty miles to the
southwest. Stephen had been walking about
somewhat cheerfully for three or four days, and
his condition was such that he could ride forward
slowly without danger to his arm. So they broke
camp, utilizing the sorrel as a pack-horse -- there
now were two extra saddles and bridles -- and set
out, Stephen, of course, mounted upon Pat.

Once more Pat found himself following an unmarked
and desolate trail. Moving always at a
walk now instead of the conventional fox-trot,
he found his service, save for this and one other
thing, identical with that under his previous
masters. The single other difference was that
instead of irritating silence, these men unwittingly
soothed him with their talk and swift exchange
of jokes. Thus the hours passed, until noon
came, when, with his bridle and saddle removed,
and pungent odors of savory cooking tickling his
nostrils, he received the privilege of grazing over
the whole desert unhobbled and untethered. But
this, liberal as it seemed, brought him nothing of
the nourishment his soul craved. After an hour
or two of lazy wandering, while the men passed

[[211]]

p210 _ -chap- _ toc-1 _ p211w _ toc-2 _ +chap+ _ p212

v?