Drowsily Jerry demanded, “What’s so all-fired funny, you early bird?”
“Get up and look,” giggled Bob.
The other scrambled to his feet and, blinkingly, scanned the horizon. Not more than a quarter of a mile away was a water tank and a few houses! The night had been so dark and they had come to the railroad so late that all the lights had been extinguished in the settlement. But as far as they were concerned, the town might just as well have been ten miles away instead of the few yards it was in reality.
“I guess it was a good one on us, all right,” Jerry had to admit. “Come on and we’ll see if we can rustle up some breakfast. Also a wash up. We must be two awful looking sights.”
They found something to eat and water to wash in and felt ten times better.
No questions were asked them. Evidently they were taken for tramps who had a little money.
They decided they might just as well find out if there was any news from Whiskers before they made any move, so they telegraphed to the Grand Canyon, asking that any telegram that had come be forwarded on to them. Then they proceeded to loaf until the answer arrived.
“Gee, this is bully,” commented Bob, as he lay stretched out on the porch of the general store, out of the glare of the sun. “I never thought just resting could be such fun!”
Jerry grunted an assent, too lazy to return a remark.
Neither boy had the energy to lift a finger. They were dead tired and the mere fact of doing nothing was infinitely enjoyable. They had a whole day of this, for it was not until the following morning that an answer came to their wire. It proved to be from the Boss and had been sent from Washington.