Swante Taggart awakened suddenly in the dark near the stable door and he lay still, his hand on his gun listening.  Then he heard a door open slightly.  Someone came out and started toward the spring.  He listened and heard a faint rustle of skirts.

With sudden embarrassment he realized that in washing the night before, and drinking, he had all but emptied the water bucket and had not refilled it.

He got to his feet and stepped out into the starlit night.  For a moment he stood still, testing the night for other sounds, and then after a glance toward the canyon mouth, he started after the girl who had gone for water.

He heard the gulp of the bucket as it took up water, and the falling drops as it was lifted clear, then emptied.  Whoever it was, wished to get the bucket thoroughly wet to keep the water cool... and then he heard water running into the bucket from the spring itself.

"I'll carry that," he said.  "I should have filled it last night."

"You were tired," said Miriam.  "Why don't you rest?"

"Not in me, I guess. I'm an early riser."

They stood alone in the darkness, each conscious of the other, each uncertain what to say.

"Does he begin work early?"

"Adam?  He tries to get to the mine while it is still dark so he will not be seen moving about.  It is something we live with here... we try to keep from being seen, or leaving tracks, so we move around as little as possible."

"But you live off the country?"

"Connie knows the plants... at least many of them.  We use what we can to help with what we brought along.  Up the canyon there are some benches that are thickly grown, and on the mountainside above us... we're careful."

"She's Indian?"

"Mexican... but she grew up with Apaches.  She knows them, and she's afraid of them."

He lifted the bucket from the rock and they started back to the cabin.  "I'll stay on," he said.
"My horse needs a rest."

"And then?"

"Who knows?  Maybe I'll ride out of here for Morenci like I planned, but I might turn back to the west.  With a man like Pete Shoyer you have to figure mighty careful.  He reads a sign like an Apache, and he reads the mind of the man he's chasing.  Once you establish a pattern of escape, he'll have it, and he's got you.  A man who's running away will nearly always, somewhere along the line, try to double back.  He knows that.  Most times when a man goes into the water to leave no tracks, he'll come out on the same side he goes in."

"I don't see why that should be."