"Joe, there's two things I want--grub an' gaff. I know you've got grub, or you wouldn't be here; but I don't know if you're any good at the gaff any more." The old man scrutinized him. "You look some older," he said finally. "Not much of the wild, galootin' kid left in you, I 'spect. But don't go gettin' fresh with me, or I'll clout you one with my prospectin' pick. Go 'long now; put up your horse an' hustle inside. If you want to wash up, I guess you can--bein' a visitor." Rathburn chuckled, as he led his horse around behind the cabin, where two burros were, and unsaddled him. Before he entered the cabin he stood for a moment looking up the ridge down which he had come. The old man watched him, but made no comment. As Rathburn sat down to the table, however, he spoke. "I kin hear anybody comin' down that trail over the ridge, while they're a mile away," he said simply without looking up. Rathburn flashed a look of admiration at the old man. The glow of the sunset lit the hills with crimson fire, and a light breeze stirred with the advent of the long, colorful desert twilight. They ate in silence, washing down the hardy food with long drafts of strong coffee. The old man asked no questions of his friend. He knew that in time Rathburn would talk. A man's business in that desolate land of dreadful distances was his own, save such of it as he wanted to tell. It was the desert code. Supper over, they went out to a little bench in front of the cabin. There Joe Price lit his pipe, and Rathburn rolled a cigarette. For some time they smoked in silence. The purple twilight drifted over the hills, and the breeze freshened in welcome relief to the heat of the day. "Joe, I just had to come back," said Rathburn softly. "Something's wrong with me. You wouldn't think I'd get homesick this way, after all the trouble I've had here, would you?" The old man removed his pipe. "Anybody here in particular you want to see?" he asked slowly. Rathburn shrugged. "You're always gettin' right down to cases first hand off an' running," he complained. "Of course there's folks I want to see. I want to see you, for instance." "I don't reckon you'd be ridin' any terrible great distance an' takin' chances by the handful just to see me, boy," said Price. "But I ain't tryin' to pry into your affairs. You don't have to answer any of the fool questions I ask you--you know that. I'm an old man an' gettin' childish." Rathburn laughed. "I can believe that when I find you still putterin' around up here where there ain't even a sign of mineral," he chided. "There's gold right under your feet," said the old man stoutly. "I'll have a payin' vein opened up here in less'n three months." "I hope so, Joe. There's nobody I'd like more to see make a big strike than you. You were my dad's friend, an' you've been mine. I haven't got many friends, Joe." "But them you've got is good ones," said Price quickly. "How long you been away?"