In a little while a savory smell filled the air, for Ned, who volunteered to act as cook, had put the fish on to broil with some strips of bacon, and soon there was a dinner fit for any king that ever wielded a scepter.
Sipping their chocolate, the boys and the professor watched the sun slowly cross the zenith as they reclined in the shade of the big trees on either side of the road. Then each one half fell asleep in the lazy atmosphere.
Jerry was the first to rouse up. He looked and saw it would soon be dusk, and then he awakened the others.
“We’ll have to travel, unless we want to sleep out in the open,” he said.
Thereupon they made preparations to leave, the professor gathering up his specimens, including the Mexican mosquito that had caused him such labor.
“I think we’ll head straight for the Rio Grande,” said Jerry. “Once we get into Texas I expect we’ll have some news from Nestor, as I wrote him to let us know how the mine was getting on, and, also, to inform us if he needed any help.”
“I’ll be glad to see old Jim again,” said Bob.
“So will I,” chimed in Ned.
The auto was soon chug-chugging over the road, headed toward the States, and the occupants were engaged with their thoughts. It was rapidly growing dusk, and the chief anxiety was to reach some town or village where they could spend the night. For, though they were used to staying in the open, they did not care to, now that the rainy season was coming on, when fevers were prevalent.