"That rail down there," he said, "ain't to trip over. It's to rest your foot on. So." He showed her. With the first sign of humor that she had shown, the lady suddenly and very capitally mimicked his attitude. And in a tough voice (really an excellent piece of acting): "What's yours, kid?" she said. And then blushed to the eyes, and was very much ashamed of herself. But Saterlee and the bartender were delighted. They roared with laughter. "Next thing," said the bartender, "she'll pull a gun and shoot up the place." Saterlee said: "Rye." "I want to be in it," said the lady. "Can you make me something that looks like a drink, and isn't?" "Scotch," said the proprietor without hesitation. "No--no," she said, "Water and coloring matter." She was fitted finally with a pony of water containing a few drops of Spanish Red and an olive. The three touched glasses and wished each other luck all around. Saterlee paid eighty dollars and some change across the bar. But the proprietor pushed back the change. "The drinks," he said grandly, "was on the house." III The united families bade them farewell, and Saterlee brought down the whip sharply upon the bony flank of the old horse which he had bought. But not for a whole minute did the sensation caused by the whip appear to travel to the ancient mare's brain. Not till reaching a deep puddle did she seem suddenly aware of the fact that she had been whipped. Then, however, she rushed through the puddle, covering Saterlee and the lady with mud, and having reached the other side, fell once more into a halting walk. The lady was tightly wedged between Saterlee and the side of the buggy. Every now and then Saterlee made a tremendous effort to make himself narrower, but it was no use. "If you begin to get numb," he said, "tell me, and I'll get out and walk a spell.... How clear the air is! Seems as if you could stretch out your hand and touch the mountains. Do you see that shadow half way up--on the left--about three feet off? Carcasonne House is somewhere in that shadow. And it's forty miles away." Once more the road ran under a shallow of water. And once more the old mare remembered that she had been whipped, and made a rush for it. Fresh mud was added to that which had already dried upon them by the dry miracle of the air. "She'd ought to have been a motor-boat," said Saterlee, the mud which had entered his mouth gritting unpleasantly between his teeth. "Last year there was _one_ spring hole _somewhere_ in these parts--this year it's all lakes and rivers--never was such rains before in the memory of man. Wonder what Gila River's doing?" "What is Gila River?" she asked. "It's a sand gully," he said, "that winds down from the mountains, and out across the plain, like a sure enough river. Only there's no water in it, only a damp spot here and there. But I was thinking that maybe it'll be going some now. We ought to strike it before dark." The mare rushed through another puddle.