Again he mounted, and this time he turned to the south and rode down a long slope of lava rock. He grunted with satisfaction, as he looked behind and saw that the leather prevented the shoes on his mount's hind feet from leaving their mark. He was completely obliterating his trail--leaving nothing for the posse to follow, if they should trace him to the top of the range. He walked his horse slowly, for the dun did not like the idea of the leather tied to its hoofs. In less than two miles the leather was worn through upon the hard rock, and he got down and removed the remnants. He straightened up and looked out over the vista of the desert. The western sky was a sea of gold. Far to southward a curl of smoke rose upward, marking the course of a railroad and a town. Rathburn looked long in this direction, with a dreamy, wistful light in his eyes. Close at hand vegetation appeared upon the slopes of the hills. His gaze darted here and there along the ridges below him, and his parted lips and eager attitude showed unmistakably that he was familiar with every rod of the locality in which he found himself. Again he climbed into the saddle and turned off to the left, entering a canyon. For better than half a mile he proceeded down this way, then he rode eastward again, winding in and out in a network of canyons until he came to the rock-ribbed crest of a ridge which overlooked an oasis in the desert hills. There was green vegetation where the water from a spring seeped into the floor of the canyon below him. The spring was nothing more than a huge cup in the rock which had caught the water from the spring rains and filled. Above the spring was a small cabin, and Rathburn saw that the cabin door was open. Hurriedly he rode down a trail to the right which circled around into the canyon from its lower end. As he galloped toward the spring, a figure appeared in the doorway of the cabin. Rathburn waved an arm and dismounted at the spring. He led his horse to drink, as the man came walking toward him from the cabin. He compelled the dun to drink slowly; first a swallow, now two, then a few more; finally he drew the horse away from the water. "You can have some more a little later," he said cheerfully. "Hello, Joe Price!" The man walked up to him without a great show of surprise and held out his hand. He was bareheaded, and the hair which hung down to his shoulders was snow-white. The face was seamed and lined, burned by the sun of three score Arizona summers, and the small, blue eyes twinkled. "Hang me with a busted shoe string if it ain't Rathburn," said the old man. "Why, boy, you're just in time for supper. Put your horse up behind the cabin an' get in at the table. She's a big country, all full of cactus; but the old man's got grub left!" Rathburn laughed, rinsed his mouth out with water he dipped from the spring in a battered tin cup, and took a swallow before he replied.