But at length a grayness blotted out the stars and mantled the level of mesquite and cactus.
Dawn caught the fugitives at a green camping-site on the bank of a rocky little stream.

Stevens fell a dead weight into Duane's arms, and one look at the haggard face showed Duane that the outlaw had taken his last ride.

He knew it, too.

Yet that cheerfulness prevailed.
"Buck, my feet are orful tired packin' them heavy boots," he said, and seemed immensely relieved when Duane had removed them.
This matter of the outlaw's boots was strange, Duane thought.

He made Stevens as comfortable as possible, then attended to his own needs.