The Pony Rider Boys in the Alkali Part 16

They shouted with laughter when they saw that he was not hurt seriously.

"Well, of all the blundering idiots----" began Ned.

"That will do," warned the Professor, hurrying to Stacy's side. "Hurt you much, lad?"

"I--I fell in," stammered Chunky.

"I should say you did. How in the world did it happen?"

The guide explained, that frequently these thin crusts were found on the desert, covering alkali sinks, some being dry, others having water in them.

"And of course Chunky had to find one. He's the original hoodoo,"

laughed Ned.

"Oh, I don't know," replied the guide. "He has done us a real service by falling in."

"How's that!" questioned Tad.

"Master Stacy has found a water hole, just what we need at this particular moment. The stock needs water, and especially the ponies that have been racing for the last half hour."

"You don't mean that we are to drink that stuff, do you?" demanded Walter.

"Not now. We still have some fairly good water in the water bags.

Later on you may be glad to drink alkali water. Run up and down if you feel able. You'll dry off in a few minutes," suggested Parry, turning to Chunky.

"I--I don't want to. Feels nice and cool after my bath. Jump in and take a swim, fellows."

"No, thank you--not in that dirty water," objected Ned.

"I'll tell you what, boys," suggested Tad. "After the stock has had a drink we'll take off our shoes and put our feet in. Guess we can stand that much."

"That's a good idea," agreed Walter. "We'll all take a cold foot bath."

In the meantime, the guide had been busily engaged in breaking the crust around the sink, so that the stock might more easily get at the water within it. The animals were impatiently pawing and whinnying, anxious to get the water. They were now willing to drink any kind of water after their half day's journey across the burning alkali.

"You might unpack and get a cold lunch together, if you will,"

suggested Parry.

The boys soon had one of the tents erected, over which they stretched the fly, that the interior might be cooler.

Ned opened a can of pickled pigs' feet, which, with some hard rolls were spread out on a folding table under the tent. Tad, not to be out-done, dug some lemons from his saddle bag, with which he proceeded to make a pail of lemonade.

It was the first time they had had any such beverage since they began their summer trips. Tad had purchased the lemons back in Eureka. The lemonade made, it lacked only sweetening now.

"Where's the sugar?" he called.

"Where's the sugar?" echoed Chunky.

"We don't know," answered Ned and Walter in the same breath.

"Get busy and find it, then. If you don't want this lemonade I'll drink it myself. I don't care whether it is sweetened or not."

That threat was effective. The other three boys made a dive for the burros. An examination of the first pack failed to reveal the sweetening. The same was the case with the next, and before they had finished, their entire outfit was spread over the ground, tents, canned goods, cooking utensils, thrown helter-skelter over several rods of ground.

"Here, boys, boys!" chided the Professor. "This will never do. We can't afford to use our provisions in that way. Soon we'll have nothing."

"Regular rough house. Ought to be ashamed of yourselves," agreed Stacy, surveying the scattered outfit, while he secretly slipped two lumps of sugar into his mouth. "Here, cook, pick up your kitchen," to Ned.

"What you got in your mouth?" demanded Ned suspiciously.

"He's eating the sugar," spoke up Walter Perkins.

"Drop 'em!" roared Ned.

Stacy started to run, whereupon the boys fell upon him, and the next second he was at the bottom of the heap. The boys were rubbing his face in the sand in an effort to make him give up the sugar.

The Professor took a hand--two hands in fact--about this time. He made short work of the "goose pile," tossing the boys from the very much ruffled Stacy, whom he also jerked to his feet.

"What's all this disturbance about?" demanded Professor Zepplin.

"First you strew the outfit all over the desert, then you get to pummeling each other."

"Chunky's been stealing sugar," volunteered Ned.

"Give back that sugar, instantly!" commanded the Professor.

The fat boy shook his head and grinned.

"Can't," he answered.

"And, why not?"

"'Cause they're inside of me."

"Now, now, now!" warned Ned. "You haven't chewed that hard sugar down this quick. I know better than that."

"No, I swallowed the lumps whole when you fellows jumped on me. Nearly choked me to death, 'cause one of 'em got stuck in my throat," Chunky explained.

Tad, in the meantime, had been busy gathering up the scattered provisions.

"Get to work, young gentlemen. Straighten up the camp," commanded the Professor.

"Don't we get any lunch?" begged Stacy.

"You're full of sugar. You don't need anything else," replied Walter.

"When you have set the outfit to rights, we'll all sit down and eat like civilized beings," a.s.serted the Professor, with emphasis.

"Civilized beings making a meal on pigs' feet! Huh!" grumbled Chunky, picking up a can of tomatoes, then throwing it down again. After this, he slipped around to the opposite side of the tent. Crawling in under the fly he promptly went to sleep, the others being so busy that they had not observed his act.