covered with brush
and small trees, excepting for a small open space on which the grass
grew high and green.

They pitched their tent near the stream. This done the boys began
gathering dry wood for the campfire which would need a lot of it
before the evening came to an end. Wood was scarce and darkness
had overtaken them ere they succeeded in getting enough for their
needs. In the meantime the professor had been laboring with the tent.
He had finished his job quickly, rather to the surprise of the boys,
who were chuckling over the mess Professor Zepplin would make of it.
The professor, however, was far from helpless. He might not be
suspicious of every one he met, but he was a man of brains. He knew
how to get along with his young charges, as perhaps few men would
have done. And he did get along, without friction, retaining the
love of every one of the Pony Rider Boys. They were always ready to
play pranks on the professor, yet there was not a lad of them but
would have laid down his life, if necessary, for him.

He insisted on getting the supper, "just to keep my hand in," as he
expressed it. No one offered strenuous objection to this, though
no cook ever had a more appreciative audience. The professor's
biscuits were beautiful to behold, but when the boys came to sample
them they shouted.

"Too much soda, Professor," cried Tad.

"No, baking powder," corrected Ned.

"Wow! I know what you're trying to do. You're trying to blow us up!"
howled Stacy. "Why don't you use dynamite in the biscuit while you
are about it? I think I'll go out and browse with the ponies. It's
much safer and I'll bet will taste better."

"Young man, if you don't like the cooking, you don't have to eat, you
know," rebuked Professor Zepplin.

"Yes, I do, too. What, not eat, and with an appetite like mine? Why,
I'd eat my pistol holster if I couldn't get anything else. Speaking
of eating that reminds me of a story---"

"Will some one please muzzle the fat boy?" begged Ned.

"You can go out and hide in the bushes while I'm telling the story,"
returned Chunky. "This is a nice ladylike story. It's about a
fellow---a clerk who was out with a party of surveyors, running a
line across the desert. The water holes had gone dry and they were
choking for water when the clerk saved them and---"

"Ring the bell! Ring the bell!" shouted Ned Rector.

"Yes, you have told us that story twice to my positive knowledge,"
spoke up the