CHAPTER 22
"Eeeeeeoooooooow!" Astro's bull-like roar shattered the silence of the desert. "There—up ahead, Tom—Roger—a building!"
Tom and Roger stopped and strained their eyes in the bright sunshine.
"I think you're right," said Tom at last. "But I doubt if anyone's there. Looks like an abandoned mining shack to me."
"Who wants to stand here and debate the question?" asked Roger, and started off down the side of the canal at a lope, with Astro and Tom right behind him.
During the last three days the boys had been living off the contents of the last remaining food container and the few lichens they found growing along the canal. Their strength was weakening, but with an abundant supply of water near at hand and able to combat the sun's heat with frequent swims, they were still in fair condition.
Tom was the first to reach the building, a one-story structure made of dried mud from the canal. The shutters and the door had long since been torn away by countless sandstorms.
The three boys entered the one-room building cautiously. The floor was covered with sand, and sand was piled in heaping drifts in front of the open windows and door.
"Nothing—not a thing," said Roger disgustedly. "This place must be at least a hundred and fifty years old."
"Probably built by a miner," commented Tom.