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White, Stewart Edward, 1873-1946

"Arizona Nights"

"

"Which way?" asked Denton again, mighty brief.

"Well," said I, "there's one thing I've always noticed in case of
folks held up by the desert: they generally go wandering about
here and there looking for water until they die not far from
where they got lost. And usually they've covered a heap of
actual distance."

"That's so," agreed Denton.

"Now, I've always figured that it would be a good deal better to
start right out for some particular place, even if it's ten
thousand miles away. A man is just as likely to strike water
going in a straight line as he is going in a circle; and then,
besides, he's getting somewhere."

"Correct," said Denton,

"So," I finished, "I reckon we'd better follow the coast south
and try to get to Mollyhay."

"How far is that?" asked Schwartz.

"I don't rightly know. But somewheres between three and five
hundred miles, at a guess."

At that he fell to glowering and grooming with himself, brooding
over what a hard time it was going to be. That is the way with a
German. First off he's plumb scared at the prospect of suffering
anything, and would rather die right off than take long chances.
After he gets into the swing of it, he behaves as well as any
man.


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