It was midmorning before they gave up the search, and both of them were exhausted. "Now what?" Rick asked wearily. He had never in his life felt so badly in need of sleep. Except for a few brief catnaps in the jeep, he had been awake continuously for forty-eight tense hours. Scotty scratched his head. "There are a few buildings we haven't searched yet." "No, but they wouldn't be in those. If the men were going to leave them here, they'd drop them nearby and not hide them in one of the distant buildings. But I suppose we'd better look, anyway." "We'd better. I'm fresher than you are. Go stretch out in the hotel lobby and I'll look." Rick was too tired to argue. He walked into the comparative coolness of the rickety old hotel and found a section of undamaged floor. He removed his shoes, stretched out, and was asleep almost at once. In a short time Scotty joined him after an unsuccessful search. When Rick woke again it was dark and Scotty was stretched out beside him, sound asleep. He turned over and went to sleep again. Both boys woke up, stiff and bleary-eyed, as dawn light flooded the hotel. They grinned at each other. "I must have slept for two days," Rick said. "Not quite. Just about sixteen hours. But you needed it, and there wasn't anything to do." "We're okay so long as the water lasts, but then what?" Rick knew without even putting it into words that they could never walk to civilization. Their water would run out and heat exhaustion would get them before they were halfway to anywhere. The base was closest, and it was over thirty miles away, across desert and waterless mountains. Scotty walked over to what had once been the hotel desk and held up a can. "Want some breakfast?" Rick was at his side in an instant, examining a can of tomatoes. "Where did you get it?" It was shiny, the label unfaded. "Down the street. In one of the houses. Someone comes here now and then, I guess. There are blankets, a sleeping bag, and a small supply of food." Rick's brows knitted. "Shouldn't we have been standing guard?" "I thought about it," Scotty admitted, "but I figured there wasn't much sense to it. We'd welcome friend or foe at this point. Anyway, I don't think whoever hangs out here is part of the gang." "Why not?" "Wouldn't the gang have been at his hide-out instead of here in the hotel? Besides, this looks like a cache for just one man." Rick had to admit that made sense. "Do you suppose he's here now?" "I doubt it. I'd have heard a car if one came into town last night. I wasn't sleeping that soundly." "Well, I'm grateful to him, whoever he is. Let me at that can." Rick searched in his pocket and found his scout knife. He opened the can-opener blade and got to work. In a moment they were taking turns drinking the slightly acid, refreshing juice and pouring whole tomatoes into their mouths. An amused voice spoke from the doorway. "Looks good."