INTO THE BEYOND.
"Well, this is something like camping," said Tom that evening,
stretching himself out luxuriously under a mesquite bush.
"See here, young feller," said Zeb, who by unanimous consent had been
put in charge of the adventurers. "Are you on a pleasure trip, jes'
dropped in as a visitor like, or air you a part of this expedition?"
"I guess I'm a part of it all right," said Tom, with rather a sheepish
grin. "At least I was under that impression."
"Same here," said Zeb dryly. "Thar's lots to be done yet afore we're
all shipshape fer ther night. Ther's lamps ter be filled and tent
ropes set right an' then I want a trench dug around ther tents."
"What's the trench for?" asked Jack, who had been busy with the three
tents, for they had decided on Zeb's advice not to use the old
roofless shack to sleep in.
"No tellin' what kind of varmints, from skunks to rattlers, ain't
makin' a hotel out of it," he said, "not to mention tarant'las, which
has a most unpleasant bite, and scorpions and centipedes that ain't
much nicer bedfellows."
This was quite enough to make the boys willing, nay anxious, to set up
the waterproof silk tents.
"What's the trench for?" asked Zeb. "Well, if it should come on ter
rain in ther night it'll keep us dry to have a trench round each
tent."
"Rain!" exclaimed Tom incredulously. "Why, it doesn't look as if it
ever rained here."
"It doesn't, not more'n about two inches a year," rejoined Zeb, "but
when it does you'd think ther flood gates uv heaven had been ripped
wide open."
"Do you think it will rain to-night?" asked Jack.
"It looks uncommon like it," answered Zeb. "See them clouds off there
yonder?"
He pointed to some heavy-looking masses of vapor hanging above a dim
range of saw-backed mountains off to the east.
"In my opinion they're plum full of rain," he said.
"In that case we'd better get ready with the trenches," declared Jack.
He picked up one shovel and gave another to Tom. The latter made a wry
face but said nothing. Tom liked hard work no better than most boys,
but he realized that the work had to be done, and so tackled it with
the best grace he could.
Secretly he wished himself to be with Dick Donovan, who had been
assigned to go fishing to see if he couldn't get "something" fresh for
supper. The professor, as usual, was off somewhere collecting
specimens.
But the task of digging the trenches was not as arduous as it had
appeared. The sand was soft and yielding, and the shovels made rapid
work with it. Soon a fairly deep trench was dug round each of the
temporary shelters.
By the time the lanterns had been filled, and Zeb had cut a goodly
stack of mesquite wood, everything was ready to begin preparations for
supper.
"We'll have a blow-out to-night," said Zeb. "Canned salmon, beans,
crackers, cheese and canned fruit, but don't expect to get that right
along. I've lived on beans and bacon for six months in this very neck
of the woods, and thought myself lucky to get that."
"Hullo!" came a cry from the direction of the river.
"There's Dick!" exclaimed both boys, and then as the young reporter
came into sight, "What luck, Dick?"
"What do you know about this?" and Dick held up a fine string of
glittering fish. There were catfish, perch and two eels.
"Good; we won't go hungry," said Zeb. "Nothing better than fried eels
and catfish."
He greased the frying pan with a strip of bacon rind and then skinned
the scaleless catfish and eels as if he had been doing nothing else
all his life. Soon the savory odors of the frying with crisp slices of
bacon, and the aroma of coffee, filled the camp.
The boys were so busy setting out the tin cups and plates that it was
not till Zeb beat on a tin basin with a spoon to announce that the
evening meal was ready that anyone noticed that the professor was
missing. Night was closing in and the sky was overcast.
The boys began to worry. They set up a loud shout.
"Pro-fess-or! Oh, pro-fess-or!"
The little gulch rang with it. But no answer came.
"Now what in the world has happened to him?" frowned Jack. "We must go
and find him at once. He must have----"
[Illustration: Soon the savory odors of the frying with crisp slices
of bacon, ...filled the air--_Page_ 208.]
The sentence was never completed. At that instant Zeb set up a shout,
and a ton of earth and rocks, more or less, came hurtling down the
steep bank into the camp. The stones and dirt were mingled with
mesquite bushes and in the midst of the landslide was a figure that
they made out to be the professor.
Luckily, the avalanche had missed the camp-fire and the supper table,
and when they had extricated the professor, and brushed him off, the
boys learned that he had almost missed his way, and being
shortsighted, in the dark had walked right over the edge of the
steepest part of the arroyo instead of by a sloping path up above.
However, nothing was injured about him but his feelings, and since his
bag of specimens was intact, the man of science, after a few minutes,
was able to sit down and eat with as good an appetite as any of them.
Zeb proved himself a good weather profit. About midnight it started
raining, and such rain as the boys had never seen. It was not rain. It
was sheets of water. Even the waterproof tents began to leak, and the
fact that the trenches had been dug did not serve to keep the floors
dry, for the hard, sun-baked earth did not absorb the moisture, and
the downpour speedily spread half an inch or more of water over the
ground.
"Turn out! turn out!" shouted Dick, who shared one of the three tents
with the boys.
"What's the matter?" began Tom sleepily, and then splash! went his
hand into the water.
"Gracious, has the river overflowed?" demanded Jack.
"No, but it's raining handsaws and marlin spikes," cried Dick. "Wow!
my bed's wet through."
"Same here," cried Jack ruefully. "I guess we'd better get out of
this."
Outside they found the professor hopping about barefooted in the
water. He had on his pajamas with a blanket thrown round his shoulders
for protection against the rain. The boys, despite their discomfort,
could not help laughing at the odd figure. Zeb joined them, grumbling:
"We made a big mistake in camping in this arroyo.
I ought to have had better sense. It's nothing more nor less than a
river. All the desert up above is draining into it."
It was true. The water was almost ankle deep. Luckily, the old shanty
in which their supplies were stored was raised above the ground, and
the goods were all covered with a big waterproof canvas.
"Let's camp out in the shanty till daylight," suggested Jack.
"That would be a good idea if it had a roof," commented Zeb dryly.
"Why can't we spread some of the canvas over us?" asked Tom.
This was finally done, and thus passed most of their first night on
the desert. Yet none of them complained, but made the best of it. The
boys knew that it is the wisest plan to meet all camping mishaps with
a smiling face.
By morning the rain had ceased. The sky was clear and the sun shone
brightly. Their wet bedding and garments were soon dried and then the
work of unpacking the sections of the Wondership was begun, for they
were anxious to have the job completed and be on their way as soon as
possible.
Old McGee had told the truth when he said they would not be molested.
An old Indian jogging by on a spavined horse and wrapped in a dirty
blanket was the only person they saw all day. He was looking along the
arroyo for a strayed burro. He stared at them in stolid silence for a
while and then rode off, shaking his head. No doubt he was at a loss
to account for such strange goings on.
That evening when Dick took his line down to the river, he met with
unusually good luck. He had just added a fine carp to his pile of fish
when, chancing to look up, he saw a boat coming round the bend.
In the craft were three figures, one of whom he recognized instantly
as Masterson. The recognition was mutual and Masterson, who had the
oars, started hastily to pull away from the place. But Dick shouted to
him.
"Don't let me drive you away," he cried.
Masterson shouted back something about "fresh kid" but kept pulling up
the stream, and soon he was round the bend and out of sight.
"Now, I wonder what he is doing out here?" mused Dick, "and those two
cronies of his. They look sort of shady to me."
He cudgeled his brains to find a reason for the presence of Masterson
so far from home, but was unable to arrive at any solution till an
idea suddenly struck him.
"They're out here trailing us," he muttered. "Yes, I'm sure of it. But
how in the world did they ever learn our plans? I guess I'll get back
to camp and put the rest on their guard, for we don't want any spies
hanging about, and those fellows were out on a spying expedition or I
miss my guess."