ed out at the sky, which was
blue and without a cloud, and across the sandy street at the collection
of iron station buildings and the train by which they had arrived and
which still stood waiting, and saw, beyond and around everything, the
tremendous stretches of yellow sand already blazing in the heat, the
affairs of the night seemed only a dream.

The reality of things was suddenly brought home to them when Peter came
into the room with a cheery, "Good morning! How're you getting on?"

Both boys were feeling fine and said so, and then their friend told
them: "You'd better hurry on a bit. The train starts back for town in
about an hour."

Sax was using the towel at the time, and when he heard what Peter said,
he stopped rubbing his face and looked at him in surprise.

"Back to town!" he exclaimed. "But we don't want to go back to town.
We're going on to Oodnadatta."

"Going on to Oodnadatta, are you?" asked Peter, with a smile. "And how
are you going to get there?"

"Why, by train, of course," broke in Vaughan. Then suddenly the events
of the night appeared to him in a new light. "That is--of course--if
it's running," he stammered.

"It's not running," said Peter. "And you take it from me, it won't run
for a month or two. The tornado smashed the Dingo Creek bridge and
tore up the line this side of it, too. Besides, the Long Cutting's
full of sand. It'll take them a couple of weeks to clean that out."

The boys were too much amazed to speak. They looked at one another in
blank dismay. They were indeed in a fix. Drover Stobart waiting for
them in Oodnadatta, and here they were in Hergott Springs, and no
chance of getting out of it for a month or two. Whatever were they to
do?

Their bushman friend did not leave them long in uncertainty. He was a
simple-hearted kindly man, and he could see by the boys' faces what
they were thinking about. So he interrupted their gloomy thoughts by
suggesting:

"See here. I don't know who you lads are, and you don't know much
about me. But I've got to get to Oodnadatta some way or another.
There's a plant of horses and niggers waiting for me up there. I'll
fix up something. Would you care to come along with me?"

The boys' faces instantly showed their eager pleasure, and the man did
not need their words of thanks to assure him that he was doing them a
good turn.

"Thanks _awfully_!" they exclaimed. "Thank you _very_ much, Mr.----"

"My name's Peter,"