“We’ll try,” answered Jack.
“All aboard!” sung out Mr. Blender, and Sam, Bony and Budge, together with Nat, who had been wandering about, looking at the view, started to climb up into the big wagon. Jack had not relinquished his seat by Mabel’s side, and he was oblivious to the winks and grins of his chums.
“Have you got a good seat, Jack?” asked Sam, giving Nat a nudge in the ribs.
“I’ve got the best seat in the wagon,” replied Jack boldly, and Mabel seemed to find something very interesting on the opposite side of the vehicle from where Jack sat at her elbow.
Mr. Pierce and Mr. Blender took their places on the front seat, the four other boys distributing themselves in the rear, while a teamster in charge of the freight wagon drove the mules that were to haul the camping outfit over the desert and mountains.
It was fine, clear weather, not cold, in spite of the lateness of the season, and the boys, as well as all the others in the party, were in fine spirits.
“Hurrah for Jack Ranger’s gun club!” cried Nat, when they started off, the horses and mules plunging forward in response to pistol-like cracks of the long whips.
“That’s right!” sung out Sam.
“Is it your gun club?” asked Mabel.