"No, only the nut came off," said Mark.
"And where is the nut?"
"Here's the nut!" cried one of the Socket boys, who was trudging on behind them.
The wheel was put into place again and the nut fastened with the wrench they had brought along. Then they picked up what had fallen out of the wagon and put it in place. All were so tired, hot, and thirsty they did not feel like doing a thing. But Mark braced them up.
"Come, boys, we must get some ginger in us, if we expect to win out!" he cried. "There must be water ahead. Let us tramp on until we reach it."
"Forward it is!" echoed Si, faintly. "But say, I'd give 'most anything for a dipperful o' water, or buttermilk!"
"I draw the line on buttermilk," said Mark, who knew little of farm life and did not care for the beverage mentioned.
At last they came in sight of the creek—or rather where the creek had been. The watercourse was moist but that was all. What little water it had contained had been used up days before.
"Dished!" said Bob, laconically.
"The worst luck yet," murmured Mark.