landlord, who was at first inclined to be curious.

The professor had hardly been shown his room before he was out again
with his hammer and satchel and his attention was almost at once
attracted by a big stone that held up one corner of the barn at the
back of the hotel. The boys knew nothing of what he was doing till
they heard a loud, angry voice crying:

"Hey, you in ther preacher's suit! Quit tryin' ter pull thet thar barn
down, will yer?"

"But, my dear sir," came the professor's voice, in mild expostulation,
"are you aware that you have built your barn on the top of a splendid
specimen of primordial rock?"

"Don't know nuthin' about a prime order of rock," came back the other
voice.

The boys looked out of the window. They saw the landlord of the hotel,
a surly-looking fellow, with a big black mustache and tanned cheeks,
striding across the yard to the professor, who had blissfully resumed
his chipping.

The landlord reached out one brawny hand to grab his guest, when
something happened that made him temporarily cease hostilities. A big
chunk of rock suddenly flaked off under the professor's assault. It
flew in the air and the next instant a yell of pain apprised them that
the landlord had got it right in the eye.

The professor looked round as the man emitted a bellow of rage.

"Bless me, where did that bit of rock go? Ah, there it is! Right at
your feet, sir," and he darted forward with a smile of satisfaction
and, picking up the chunk of rock that had struck the indignant
landlord, placed it in his satchel.

"Thank you very much for stopping it, sir," he said, with a bow, and
then, before the thunderstruck landlord could say anything, the
scientist strolled off under his umbrella in search of more specimens.
The boys fairly choked with laughter.

But the landlord was too dumfounded even to speak for a minute. His
face grew as purple as a plum. He appeared to be about to burst.

"He's locoed," he burst forth at last, "locoed as a horn toad, by the
'tarnal hills."

Then, holding a hand to his eye, he reentered the hotel and could be
heard shouting for hot water to bathe his injury.

Zeb, who had been out looking for a trustworthy man to take their
effects out to a spot along the river where they could put the
Wondership together without exciting undue curiosity, returned shortly
before supper with news that he had been successful in his search, an
old, wrinkled prospector named Pete McGee, who