Hopalong took the lead in getting his horse ready for service and then rode around in a circle half a mile in diameter, but returned empty handed.

The horse was gone and with it went their main supply of food and drink.
Frenchy scowled at the shadow of a cactus and slowly rode toward the northeast, followed closely by his friends.

His hand reached for his depleted canteen, but refrained--water was to be saved until the last minute.
"I'm goin' to build a shack out here an' live in it, I am!" exploded Hopalong in withering irony as he dug the sand out of his ears and also from his sixshooter.

"I just nachurally dotes on this, I do!" The others were too miserable to even grunt and he neatly severed the head of a Gila monster from its scaly body as it opened it venomous jaws in rage at this invasion of its territory.

"Lovely place!" he sneered.
"You better save them cartridges, Hoppy," interposed Red as his companion fired again, feeling that he must say something.
"An' what for ?" blazed his friend.