Ernest looked from the approaching gray cloud to Roger's obstinate mouth, shrugged his shoulders and daubed another brush full of hot asphaltum over a crack. Suddenly a hot blast of air took their hats off. The tent gave a boom. The window-sash resting against the engine house wall fell with a tinkling crack. Without a word the two men ran to close the tent. When they had finished, the whole world was a swirling dust cloud through which they could not perceive each other when ten feet apart. "Make for the engine house!" roared Ernest. "I'll fetch the old lady." He was better than his word for he brought not only the madam, but her rocking chair and a book. Certainly no one could have accused their visitor of being a trial. She took the storm with the utmost philosophy and spoke scarcely a hundred words until the storm was over. When he had stowed Mrs. von Minden and her rocker inside Ernest slammed the door shut and turned the button. "If Gustav tries to get back through this, he'll lose his way, without fail," said Roger. "How long do you suppose it'll last?" asked Ernest. "The Lord knows! Have you got any tobacco with you?" Roger sat down on a box of window glass and took out his pipe. For half an hour they sat listening to the howl of the wind while Madam read. "Evidently it doesn't intend to quit for a while," said Roger finally. "Guess I'll make up my diary and write some letters. I understand now why Dick was so insistent on this adobe. You take a look at the cook tent and I'll see if the house tent is still standing while I get some paper." The wind increased in violence until long past noon. They retrieved some canned stuff from the kitchen tent and ate it with their mouths full of the sand that sifted through the cracks of the doors and windows. Madam satisfied herself with crackers. It was very hot, even in the adobe. About three o'clock Roger wiped the sweat out of his eyes and paused--pipe poised: "It's letting up, Ern," he said. Ernest paused to listen. There was a perceptible lull in the uproar, and the lull increased until at five o'clock they emerged from their shelter. The air had miraculously cleared. The sky was a deep, rich violet and the desert, lighted by the westering sun, was a beaten gold and remodeled to unfamiliar lines. Well known cat's-claw and cactus clumps had disappeared. A sand drift a foot in length covered the well curb. A drift that touched the thatch lay against the east side of the cook tent and had spilled within, half burying the tables and benches. Within the living tent, sand lay thick on trunks and cots. But the tents had withstood the day's siege, stolidly. "Let's look at the absorber," said Roger, gloomily.