vanished. We'll likely see more of 'em after breakfast. We got to eat, anyyway. Hey, thar, git out an' up," he called to the sleepers. "Chuck's ready."
Healy and Larkin stirred, sat up and yawned, rose and stretched. Harvey swiftly sliced bacon into the frying pan and poured red-hot ashes on the lid of his Dutch kettle where his campbread was baking.
"If you'd got up early enough," he grinned at Healy, "you might hev' caught some of them trout you was talkin' about last night. They's some nice ones over by that rock. See 'em risin'? Did ye bring enny tackle with ye?"
They sat down to breakfast cheerily, the swift sun warming them as it mounted and swept the little valley that ran east and west. The act of breaking bread together seemed somehow to Stone to dissolve much of the suspicion engendered by the night. Yet there was little in common between the four of them save the bond of gold that held the partners. And Stone resolved to ask Larkin what he and Healy had been whispering about.
Harvey said nothing about the Indian sentinel and Stone followed suit. There was no sense in spoiling a good breakfast. But after the dishes had been scrubbed with sand and water, and the burros reladen, Harvey called them into council.
"I figger we'd better aim for Stone Men Cañon fer a noon camp," he said. "They's good water there aside from the lime stuff. You needn't be afraid of a petrified stummick. An' this time of year they's good grass for the burros. Also thar's them
