The Range 



helped me off. I stumbled into the cabin and fell 

 upon a buffalo robe and lay there absolutely spent. 

 Jones and Frank came in a few minutes apart, each 

 anathematizing the gritty, powdery sand. 



All day the desert storm raged and roared. The 

 dust sifted through the numerous cracks in the cabin, 

 burdened our clothes, spoiled our food and blinded 

 our eyes. Wind, snow, sleet and rainstorms are 

 discomforting enough under trying circumstances; 

 but all combined, they are nothing to the choking, 

 stinging, blinding sandstorm. 



&quot; Shore it ll let up by sundown,&quot; averred Jim. 

 And sure enough the roar died away about five 

 o clock, the wind abated and the sand settled. 



Just before supper, a knock sounded heavily on 

 the cabin door. Jim opened it to admit one of 

 Emmett s sons and a very tall man whom none of us 

 knew. He was a sand-man. All that was not sand 

 seemed a space or two of corduroy, a big bone- 

 handled knife, a prominent square jaw and bronzed 

 cheek and flashing eyes. 



&quot; Get down get down, an come in, stranger,&quot; 

 said Frank cordially. 



&quot; How do you do, sir,&quot; said Jones. 



&quot; Colonel Jones, I ve been on your trail for twelve 

 days,&quot; announced the stranger, with a grim smile. 

 The sand streamed off his coat in little white streaks. 



47 



