"Same boat, every fellow rocking it, too, and no water to drown in if we fall out. We're in the queerest streak of luck yet developed," Todd Stewart observed. "Let's take a vote, then, and see how many of us really have no visible means of support and couldn't walk out of here at all. Let's have a show of hands," Jim Shirley proposed. "How did you decide?" Champers asked, as the hands dropped. His eyes were on Asher Aydelot, who had not voted. "Didn't you see? Everybody, except Asher there, is nailed fast to the gumbo," Stewart declared. Darley Champers looked Asher Aydelot straight in the eyes, and nobody could have said that pity or dislike or surprise controlled the man's mind, for something of all three were in that look. Then he said: "Gentlemen, I know your condition just as well as you do. You're in a losing game, and it's stay and starve, or--but they ain't no 'or.' Now, I'll advance money tomorrow on every claim held here and take it and assume the mortgage. Not that they are worth it. Oh, Lord, no. I'll be land-logged, and it's out of kindness to you that I'm willin' to stretch them fellers I represent in the East. But I'll take chances. I'll help each feller of you to get away for a reasonable price on your claim. It's a humanitarian move, but I may be able to lump it off for range land in a few years for about what it costs to pay taxes. But, gents, I got some of you in and I'm no scallawag when it comes to helpin' you out. Think it over, and I'll be down this way in two weeks. I've got to go now. It's too infernal hot to keep alive here. I know where there's two sunflower stalks up on the trail that's fully two feet tall. I've got to have shade. Goodday." And Champers was gone. "What do you say?" The question seemed to come from all at once. "Let Pryor Gaines speak first. He's our preacher," Asher said with a smile. Pryor Gaines was a small, fair-faced man, a scholar, a dreamer, too, maybe. By birth or accident, he had suffered from a deformity. He limped when he walked, and his left hand had less than normal efficiency. On his face the pathos of the large will and the limited power was written over by the ready smile, the mark of abundant good will toward men. "I am out of the race," he said calmly. "I'm as poor as any of you, of course, and I must stay here anyhow, Dr. Carey tells me. I came West on account of heart action and some pulmonary necessities. I cannot choose where I shall go, even if I had the means to carry out my choice. But my necessities need not influence anyone," he added with a smile. "I can live without you, if I have to." "How about you?" Stewart said, turning to Asher. "You take no risk at all in leaving, so you'll go first, I suppose?"