The cave itself was not large, with a fine sandy floor and a lofty arched roof of irregular blocks of the red sandstone which was the regular formation of these hills. A lime dyke broke through here and there in sharp peaks and ridges in a fairly continuous outcropping roughly pointing toward the river. Abington slipped off his pack, drank from the spring and sat down against the wall of the cave to unlace his boot from his lame foot. Bill began gathering dry twigs and branches and set about making coffee and frying a little bacon. “We oughta git a sheep or something,” he grumbled, breaking a long moody silence. “This time of year there’s generally sheep running in through here.” “I’ll take a hunt, when my foot has had a rest. We can manage for a day or two,” Abington replied without looking up. “Say, you’d be in a hell of a fix if you broke your leg,” Bill sneered. “You’d starve to death before you’d trust me with a gun, wouldn’t you?” “There’s meat for to-night. To-morrow will take care of itself.” “Yeah, maybe it will--and it’ll leave us to do the same,” Bill retorted. “What the heck are you scared of, professor?” “Nothing at all. Not even your gosh-awful. Will you fill that corn can with water for me, Bill? I’ll try a cold compress on the foot.” Bill did as he was requested and a sight of the discolored foot stirred him to sympathy. Abington, he suddenly saw, must have suffered cruelly all day, though he hadn’t said anything about it. Bill remembered too that Abington had remained awake all last night while he himself had slept. But it was not Bill’s way to apologize. “That’s a hell of a looking foot!” he growled. “Hot water beats cold. After supper I’ll heat a can of water--” “After supper I’m going to sleep,” Abington rebuffed him. “Cold water will do.” “Have it your way--it’s your foot,” snapped Bill, and relapsed into his morose silence. * * * * * It was not an agreeable supper, and neither spoke while they drank coffee and ate bacon and fried corn from the same frying pan. Bill was tired and full of uneasy fears and he bitterly resented Abington’s action in regard to the guns. He was accustomed to the feel of a gun’s weight against his hip and the thought of facing trouble without a weapon gave him an uncomfortable feeling of helplessness. Add mystery to the hazard, and Bill reacted with a dread not far removed from panic. Abington ate and drank his share, then forced himself to explore the cave with a lamp. He chose for himself a niche in one side of the wall near the entrance, where he would hear any intruder and would still be fairly well concealed.