Duke and Jenny were turned, after considerable shouting and shoving; Harry set off on a straight line for the keg, and Terry followed more slowly with the team and cart. It did seem rather tough luck that they had lost the horsemen's trail to the next stake; now they'd simply have to guess at direction, unless they happened to be near the stage line and a stage came. Golly, but he was thirsty! His mouth was glued. He hoped that they all--that is, Harry and he and Shep--would get a good drink from that keg. As for Duke and Jenny, they did not deserve a drink, although doubtless they needed one. And what about something to eat? Harry was waiting at the keg, a queer look on his perspiring, grimy face. He had set the keg on end. "Thirsty?" he queried. "Thirsty's no name for it," panted Terry. "So am I. But we'll have to go easy. The bung flew out of the keg, and half the water's followed. I found the bung, but I can't find the water." Harry evidently tried to speak lightly, but Terry read concern in his tone and face both. "Can you stand a short drink?" encouraged Harry. "There'll be plenty on ahead somewhere." "Sure," declared Terry, manfully, feeling thirstier than ever. "We've got a little, haven't we? And if we strike that trail maybe it'll lead us to a creek." So they hoisted in the keg, tightly stoppered again (but it was suspiciously light), and Harry trudged ahead once more, to find the gunny sacks. "We'll never mind the sauerkraut," he called back. "Let it stay. The lighter we travel, the better, from here to water." Shep went with him. They dipped into a shallow, narrow draw; Terry heard Shep barking, and then Harry hallooing. And when, urging Duke and Jenny, he could see into the draw, Harry was there, at one side, beckoning and shouting to him, and at the same time examining some object on the ground. "Haw, Duke! Haw! Hep with you!" Along the shallow draw they toiled, for he was afraid to leave the team. Harry was kneeling, Shep was nosing and busily waving his tail. They were engaged over that object. It could not be the gunny sacks. The gunny sacks had not rolled so far from the back trail. "Whoa-oa, Duke, Jenny! Stand, now!" And Terry trudged a few steps to join the investigation. He stopped short, astounded. Harry and Shep had found a man--no, looked more like a boy; lying crumpled and motionless in a little saucer-shaped hollow amidst the brush. "Say! Is he dead?" gasped Terry. "No. Hasn't even been stepped on, I think," answered Harry. "But he needs food and water mighty bad--'specially water. Open the keg, quick." [Illustration: "TERRY FLEW TO THE CART ... FLEW BACK AGAIN WITH THE PRECIOUS FLUID"] CHAPTER VI JUST IN TIME Terry flew to the cart, wrestled with the keg until he might pour from it, and lavishly plashing a tin cup full, even to running over, flew back again.