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Pony Rider Boys in the Alkali

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<h3> CHAPTER XXI </h3> <h4> OFF ON A DRY TRAIL </h4> "We shall have to divide up our forces to-day, Professor. We'll make a desperate effort to find a water hole," announced Tom Parry. "What do you propose doing? You mean you're going to let us help you?" "Yes." "I'm glad." "We'll make a big pull to-day. Should we fail to find water there is only one thing left for us to do." "And that?" "Leave the burros to shift for themselves. We'll head hack toward the San Antonio Range as fast as the bronchos will carry us. I don't know whether they'll be equal to the strain or not. If they give out we'll have to walk, that's all." "Impossible!" exclaimed the Professor aghast. "Nothing's impossible when you're up against it. We'll go through with this, see if we don't. Just keep your nerve, and——" "But the boys," protested the Professor. "Look at them," said Parry. "They're somewhat the worse for wear, it's true, but they're all right, every single one of them. Boys, come over here!" The lads hastened to obey his summons. "What is it, Mr. Parry?" questioned Tad. "We've got to do some real work to-day, boys, and I want you to take a hand." "We are ready for anything, sir," spoke up Ned. "Yes, I know that," replied Parry; then went on: "This is the situation. We are without a drop of water. All the water holes that I have been depending upon are dry and there is no certainty that we shall find any that are not in the same condition if we continue on our journey. We can go along for another day, perhaps, so far as we are concerned." "But the stock won't," interposed Tad. "No." "I noticed this morning that some of the ponies were pretty gaunt in the flanks." "Regular scarecrows. We've got to make an organized search for a tank, and the sooner we begin the better off we'll be—or the worse," added the guide under his breath. "If we fail, we'll ride all night, taking the back trail. We ought to hold out long enough to reach the last water hole we left. Though even that may be dried up by the time we get to it." "Then you want us to spread out, as it were, and cover all the territory about here?" questioned Tad. "That's it. You've caught the idea." Professor Zepplin shook his head. "I don't like the idea. The boys will be lost." "They mustn't, that's all," replied the guide, with a firm setting of the lips. "I think we can arrange so they will find their way back to camp all right. Listen! This is my plan. Master Tad will ride west, due west. Master Ned, on the other hand, will proceed east, and I'll go south. Each of us will ride as far as he can until noon. If by then none of us has found any trace of water, we'll all turn about and hurry hack to camp." "Yes, but how do you expect the boys to find their way hack?" demanded Professor Zepplin. "I'm coming to that. To begin with, I'm going to splice the ridge poles of the tents together, making a flagpole of them. On this we'll tie a shirt or something, planting the pole on the top of that ridge there. While the boys will be too far away to see it from where they should be by twelve o'clock, they can get near enough, by using their watches as compasses, so they can pick it up. Each one will take a rifle with him, and in the event of finding water he is to remain there, firing off the gun at frequent intervals." "What'll we be doing here all the time?" interrupted Walter. "Starting at twelve o'clock, you will begin firing a rifle to help guide the boys in. Fire a shot every five minutes. No chance to get lost at all. Do you think so, Professor?" "It would seem not. Did I not know from past experiences how easy it is for the boys to get into trouble, I should not hesitate an instant." "Anyway, we've got to do it. We are at a point where we shall have to take chances. We are taking some as it is. Now, hurry your breakfast. I'll fix up the signal pole while you are doing so, then we'll be off as soon as you have finished." Both Tad and Ned were enthusiastic and anxious to show themselves capable of taking a man's part in the proposed operations. "If Chunky only had a fountain pen now all this trouble would be unnecessary," teased Ned as they were hurrying through their breakfast. The fat boy's soulful eyes held an expression of mild protest, but he made no reply. The meal finished, Tad and Ned brought out their rifles, which they loaded, taking with them a box of cartridges each. The guide did the same. The flagpole had been planted and from its top fluttered a pair of pink pajamas belonging to the Professor. "That ought to scare all the coyotes off the desert," commented Ned as the party surveyed the result of the guide's work. "It will serve still another purpose," grinned the guide. "Some traveler may see it. In that event he'll head for it, thinking it's some one in distress. If he does, you may be able to get a few drops of water from his canteen, providing it's not as empty as our own." "Oh, how dry I am," whistled Ned softly. "There doesn't seem to be much probability of our meeting strangers in this desolate place," commented the Professor. "What time do you think we shall see you back? Have you any idea?" "Somewhere about sunset, in all probability." "I'd like to go along with Tad," said Stacy. "Why—no, I think you'd better not," said the Professor. "Please. I know I shall be able to help him. You do not need two boys in camp with you, Professor." "Yes; he might as well go along, if he wants to," decided the guide. "Very well, then. But Walter must remain here." "Use your old ponies. Do not take the stallions," advised Parry. "If the stallions were to get away from you while you are off on the desert alone it would leave you, and perhaps us as well, in pretty bad shape. And, by the way, Professor, when you begin firing your signals, go to the top of the hill yonder and shoot straight up into the air. The sound will carry further than were you to shoot from here. You've no idea how perplexing this Desert Maze is to those not familiar with it and its tricks." "I'm learning fast," smiled the Professor. "Furthermore, I am convinced that I shall know all about it if I live long——" "Never," answered Parry promptly. "No man ever lived who knew all about the desert. I——" "If we rough riders don't get started pretty soon we'll be back before we get started," warned Stacy humorously. "You're right. We are wasting time. Now, Masters Tad and Ned, you understand what you are to do?" "We do," answered the boys. "Follow my directions to the letter. If you do you will keep out of trouble. If you do not, there's no telling what may happen." "We are to find water. That's what we are going out for," added Tad. "Exactly. But the instant you hear a gun fired, turn about and ride home. That will mean either that the time's up, or that one or the other of us has found what you are looking for. Keep your eyes clear for signs and for crusts of alkali that may have a water tank under them." "We'll do our duty, Mr. Parry," answered Tad. "I know it. Good-bye and good luck!" The three lads swung their hands in parting salute, as they left the camp at an easy gallop, Tad and Stacy riding side by side, Ned Rector moving off alone. Ascending the rise of ground where the pajamas were drooping listlessly from the top of the signal pole, Tad and Stacy slipped down the opposite side of the hill and disappeared from view. The two lads were destined to pass through some exciting experiences before they rejoined their companions. "I hope we don't get lost," said Stacy, apprehensively, as they glided across the desert. "We mustn't!" "Yes; but what if we do?" insisted the fat boy. "It will be because you disobeyed orders, Chunky. You and I have a task to perform, and we're going to do it like men. The lives of our companions may depend upon our own efforts—yours and mine." "I can't see the Professor's pajamas," insisted Chunky. "I believe we are lost already, Tad." "Then we'll stay lost," answered Tad shortly. <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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