The going was not bad along the tops of the swales, the puddles standing on the exposed gravel. In the coulee bottoms was a different matter, and the wagon slid down the ruts of tracks nearly out of control. Augie was saving his breathe for cursing at the mules, and Muldoon rode ahead so as not to be splattered with the mud flung by the wheels. The road dipped down into the river's valley, and Muldoon would hardly have recognized it until Augie paused on the next rise and pointed.

“There's my place, Cap'n. Up that canyon behind the little bald knob.”

Muldoon fished around in his coat, pulling out the collapsible tube of the monocular. He studied the distant canyon, still not quite sure that he would have found it alone. He had not looked back when he left.

SETTLER'S LAW, page 69