For a change, the window in McLendon’s room came in handy. The ground that was mostly sand quickly turned to bog, and in the hard-packed areas the water didn’t soak in and turned to writhing rivulets that washed about ankle-high. The lightning was spectacular. It leaped up wide and terrifying from the desert floor. Yet the prospectors still slogged their way out into the storm, determined to search out silver in spite of the weather. McLendon admired their pluck but felt no inclination to emulate it. He happily watched through his window for more than two hours until the storm passed and the dark clouds were almost immediately replaced by the bright, searing sun. “If you went out into the mountains right now, you’d find much of the rock to be steaming,” Major Mulkins told him in the dining room. “The heat’s always extra fearful after rain.” “Will the stage still make the trip here today after the storm?” McLendon asked.
