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Pony Rider Boys in the Alkali

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<h3> CHAPTER XXIII </h3> <h4> LOST IN THE DESERT MAZE </h4> A rifle shot sounded from the camp of the Pony Rider Boys. At regular intervals shot followed shot. It was the warning signal agreed upon to notify the others that water had been found. Ned Rector had ridden into camp with the joyful tidings that he had discovered a water tank about three miles to the eastward. Immediately Walter sprang for his rifle, and running to the top of the little hill began shooting into the air. Ned, in the meantime, not waiting for the return of the others, had fetched the water-bags from the burros, and started off at a rapid pace to bring back water for the stock. His canteen he left for Professor Zepplin and Walter. "It's horrible stuff, but it is water," breathed the Professor as he swallowed the brown alkali fluid. "If ever I get a drink of real water again, I know I shall be able to appreciate it." In the meantime Walter's rifle was booming its warning over the desert maze. Two hours later, Tom Parry, hot, dusty and well-nigh spent, rode into camp with the steam rising from his pony in a thin, vaporous cloud. "Have you found it?" he called hoarsely. "Yes; Ned's found a water hole," the Professor informed him. "Give me a drink, quick. The alkali's cutting furrows in my throat," he begged. "Never got such a hold of me before." The Professor pressed his canteen to the guide's lips, and Parry drank eagerly. A few moments later he pulled himself together sharply. "I'm going to take the stock out to the water hole," he announced, starting the burros off across the desert. "I'll water the stallions when I return." "You had better let me attend to that," protested the Professor. "You're in no shape to go out in the sun again." "That's all right, Professor. But tell me how I am going to get out of the sun?" begged Parry, with a grim smile. "The tent——" "Hotter than the sun. No, I guess I can stand it if those boys are able to. By the way, have you seen anything of the other two?" "I'll ascertain if Walter has discovered them yet." Walter's straining eyes had failed to make out Tad and Stacy, however, so the Professor bade him continue firing his rifle. This was a pleasant occupation for Walter, for, like his companions, next to a pony he loved a gun. Ned had returned with the water-bags, and Parry had finished watering the stock. It was now near sunset. "No signs yet?" questioned the guide, joining Walter on the knoll. "Not a thing." "That doesn't seem right. Stop your firing and come get some supper. We must eat and put ourselves in shape or we'll be good for nothing. Did those boys take any food with them?" "I think I saw Tad stowing something in his pockets before he started. I'm sure I did," spoke up Ned Rector. "There's a lad who knows his business," approved Parry, moving toward the camp with Walter. "Why have you discontinued the shooting?" demanded the Professor in surprise. "To eat. Half an hour's intermission will make little difference. If the lads are on their way, we'll be able to call them in before it gets dark. If not, then I shall go out to look for them. They're all right. I think you need feel no concern over them." "Must have gone a long way," spoke up Ned. "Yes, they undoubtedly followed orders." "And perhaps exceeded them," added the Professor. It was a real supper that they sat down to that evening, with hot coffee, fried bacon and other good things, and the party would have been a jolly one had Tad and Stacy been on hand to participate in it. Walter hurried through his meal, then took his position on the hill once more, where he renewed his signaling with the rifle. All at once he uttered a shout, following it with a quick volley of six shots, thus emptying his magazine. "Do you see them!" called Parry, hastening over to the knoll, and joining Walter. "I think I see a cloud of dust approaching over the desert," he made reply. "Where?" Walter pointed with his rifle. "Yes, that's the boys, I guess. Nothing but a broncho could kick up the alkali like that. I'll go back and have their supper ready. You keep on shooting. The light is growing fainter and they won't be able to find their way in otherwise." "Is it the boys?" called the Professor, as they saw Parry hastening toward them. "I think so. Put the coffee on, Master Ned. They'll want to boil the alkali out of their systems as soon as they get here." "That's the time Tad Butler got left," chuckled Ned Rector. "He's always been around when there was any glory coming. But when it comes to finding water where there isn't any, I guess they can't beat Ned Rector." "What's that boy shooting so rapidly for?" asked Parry. "He's excited about something," answered Ned. "He's dancing around as if he's suddenly gone crazy. What's that? He's calling and motioning to us. Guess he wants you, Mr. Parry." "What is it!" called the guide, making a megaphone of his hands. Unable to make out what it was that Walter was shouting to him, Tom Parry deserted the camp-fire, where he was assisting to get the second supper, and hastened to the knoll. "What's the trouble, my lad?" "Come and see. I want you to take a look at that pony. He's tearing across the desert as if something were chasing him. But I can't make out anyone on his back." "The light is weak and he's throwing a lot of dust. Of course there's some one his back, and there must be two horses." The guide shaded his hands, gazing off across the plain. "What—what——" he stammered. "Wasn't I right, Mr. Parry?" "That's very strange. I don't understand it at all." "That's what I thought." "There's only one pony and he's riderless," exclaimed Tom Parry. "I'm afraid something has happened. It may not be one of our ponies, however. We'll know in a few minutes." The running animal was drawing steadily nearer the camp. Those over by the camp-fire were busy getting the meal ready for the two missing lads. The pony reached the foot of the knoll. Observing Parry and Walter there, the little animal shied, making a wide detour, and finally galloping up to the camp. Walter and the guide hurried down. "Hello!" cried the Professor, as he saw the horse dash in. "What does this mean!" "Why, it's Tad's pony!" exclaimed Ned in amazement. "Is that Master Tad's mount?" called the guide as he approached them on the run. "Yes. Do you think there's anything wrong?" questioned Ned. "Looks that way. Don't let him get away. I want to look the critter over. Perhaps we may learn something." Ned caught the pony without difficulty, and led it to the guide. Parry went all over the animal, even going through the saddlebags. "The rifle and the rope are missing. Everything else seems to be in order," he announced. "Then I'll guarantee that Tad's all right," spoke up Ned. "That's what I think," agreed Walter. "He's taken his gun and rope up into some mountain or other and while he was away the pony got away and started for home." "Is that your opinion, Mr. Parry?" questioned the Professor. "What's the use in offering any opinions? I don't know. But I'm going to find out. Let's see. We have a new moon to-night. I've got about two hours before it goes down. I want you all to remain right here in camp until I return. Even if it's until to-morrow. I'm going out to look for the boys." With that Parry hastily filled his canteen, slung one of the bags of water over the back of his pony, and springing into the saddle dashed away, following the trail that the returning broncho had left. <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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