A cloud shadow moved slowly along the slope beneath him, and he watched the darkening of the earth where it touched, and the sharp contrast of the sun-yellowed sea of grass all around it.

H.J.Owens looked bored and sleepy; yet he did not leave the hilltop--nor did he go to sleep.
Instead, he lifted the glasses, turned them toward Flying U Coulee a half mile to the south of him, and stared long at the trail.

After a few minutes he made a gesture to lower the glasses, and then abruptly fixed them steadily upon one spot, where the trail wound up over the crest of the bluff.

He looked for a minute, and laid the glasses down upon a rock.
H.J.Owens fumbled in the pocket of his coat, which he had folded and laid beside him on the yellow gravel of the hill.

He found something he wanted, stood up, and with his back against a boulder he faced to the southwest.