Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1929-08-04


sion was that he had come upon
- vagrant snow patch. But the idea
had barely emerged before he
realized its absurdity. Could 1t be
that the scorching humor of the desert had at
last scared him to a point of dizziness? +.
He moved slowly toward the outer rim of white
ness If fearful lest the vision might dissolve,
but the mirage did not recede; it became If
anything more tangible, more crystalline, more
emphatic. Surely this pool of frozen purity
had not been there last week.
He bent over tracing figures in the glis-
tening surface with his gun If he were mad
his new estate had been accomplished with
completeness! He next trusted his fingers to
a confirmation of the fact before him. He had
almost expected cool reaction but the scorch
OF accumulated sunshine bit ruthleSSly into his
flesh Immediately every spark Of animation
was extinguished within him; the suggestion
flashing through his mind was too tremendous,
too fantastic to be met save in complete immo-
bility. When he moved again it was to scoop
up handful of burning whiteness. Even now
he did not altogether credit his senses. He
moistened foref1nger. carrying its powdered
surface back to his tongue. He knew the look
Of 1t, the taste of it, and yet he was not to
be trapped unduly. He whipped out his pocket
magnifer. His conclusions were reluctant, con-
strained by the incautions of lifetime Borax?
=. Gould 1t be possible-here by the road
road? =. He felt himself grow suddenly
weak and he had the wit to realize that the
sun was In no humor to brook defiance. He
moved slowly into the truce of rocky ledge.
sprawling full length in its shadow. Overhead
three buzzards formed sinister merry-go-
round against the turquoise sky. Their foul
expectations made, Hank Wheelock chuckle
In spite of his so. years he was long way
from caShing In. Them fool buzzards! Didn't
they know tough old coyote when they saw
one? Besides, he wasn't quite ready to pro-
vide" grub for such an ornery lot Of feathered
bandits-not yet. He'd have another look ut
that outcropping OF borax first. Borax! =.
Jim Bledsoe about 1t! Foolish, futile Jim
Bledsoe. Perhaps he wouldn't tell him! Per-
haps he wouldn't tell nobody: It would depend.
TN the cool of evening Hank Wheelock went
through the primitive gesture of marking
the confines Of his prospect with bits of shale
Clipped FROM the ledge that had sheltered him
from the SUM- The definite rules for stalking
q claim he was unprepared to meet and yet
some atavistic urge, barking back to the days
when men made covenants with the gods, gave
him foolish pleasure in setting up symbols of
his revelation. What ne would have liked to
do was to sweep back the sand over his treas
ure with a miraculous rake. There would be
PCOPiC pdcomB AuO IcpdScuS. 4nOlaTlS 1OE the
most part. These scarcely mattered but others
would pass, too-white men, with little sharp
beady eyes, seeking furtively to wrest secrets
from the sun-bitten land. But the desert was
capricious; it rewarded whom 1t would.
Take his own case, for instance. How many
times had he secured the blunt, squeezed hills
to no purpose, coveting their treasures! -.
And this same spot with its ledge Of rock that
marked waterhole Of almost miraculous
sweetness, how MANY times haC he loitered In
It's gaunt shade, innocent of its hoard? e.
Last week, when he had tramped eastward to
another futile tryst with fortune, his path had
been without revelation. But overnight mir
acle had happened; wanton wind had danced
with gathering violence across the starlit mesa,
furrowing the cleaning sand with is twinkling
feet, tearing open quiescent wounds in its
frenzy, revealing close-locked secrets. To-
night 1t was conceivable that another wind
might rise, blotting out all trace of the one that
had gone before, piling the restless sand dis
creetly back again. Hank Wheelock hoped
that this might be so: such prospect made
him feel safer. Would it be necessary to tell
Jim Bledsoe? Not right of, anyhow. . He'd
bide his time He might even persuade
himself beyond that. d. He'd do what was
right, but he wasn't going to be no fool phil
anthropist. If they had come upon this secret
together that would have been one thing .
But they hadn't Yet Jim Bledsoe was
still Ibis partneE.fass' 30, - +t-..
Well there, was time 2en 5uyh to settle that.