“He didn’t! Then there sure must be something wrong. I guess I’d better get up, too; though it’s a shame, for I could have had another nap. It’s early yet,” and Ned glanced reproachfully at his tall chum, and then at a clock on the wall, its dial faintly illuminated in the light of the newly-dawning day.
“Nobody’s pulling you out of bed,” retorted Jerry. “But it’s hardly fair to let Bob do all the hunting alone, even if he did get up of his own accord.”
The boys dressed silently, not wanting to arouse the others in the craft, though Professor Snodgrass was already up, as he usually was, before dawn each day, to get insects and bugs that were only abroad at that early hour.
“Find any, Bob?” sung out Jerry, as he neared his stout chum, who was walking along, his head bent over, making a course along the recent flood, as nearly as he could trace it.
“Nope,” was the somewhat gloomy response. “There doesn’t seem to be a one. But maybe, now that you fellows have condescended to come out, we may pick up a few. Scatter out a bit, so we won’t go over the same ground twice,” he added, as Ned joined them.
“Look here, Chunky!” exclaimed Ned. “You must have some object in getting up so early and beginning this search.”
“I have. I want to find the nuggets.”
“I know, but you must have a special reason. What is it? If it’s trouble, Jerry and I have a right to know. We’re just as much in this thing as you are.”
Bob looked cautiously around. No one was in sight save Professor Snodgrass, and he was so much engaged in trying to creep upon, and capture, a specimen of an eight-toed lizard that was trying to get away that he had no idea the boys were even up.