"I got my finger through," cried Stacy triumphantly. "Ouch!" he yelled as a club of some sort was brought against the door on the outside with terrific force, bruising the end of the lad's finger.
"The hermit is out there waiting for us!" gasped Tad, with sinking heart.
CHAPTER XXIII
LOST IN THE DESERT MAZE
A rifle shot sounded from the camp of the Pony Rider Boys. At regular intervals shot followed shot.
It was the warning signal agreed upon to notify the others that water had been found. Ned Rector had ridden into camp with the joyful tidings that he had discovered a water tank about three miles to the eastward. Immediately Walter sprang for his rifle, and running to the top of the little hill began shooting into the air. Ned, in the meantime, not waiting for the return of the others, had fetched the water-bags from the burros, and started off at a rapid pace to bring back water for the stock. His canteen he left for Professor Zepplin and Walter.
"It's horrible stuff, but it is water," breathed the Professor as he swallowed the brown alkali fluid. "If ever I get a drink of real water again, I know I shall be able to appreciate it."
In the meantime Walter's rifle was booming its warning over the desert maze.
Two hours later, Tom Parry, hot, dusty and well-nigh spent, rode into camp with the steam rising from his pony in a thin, vaporous cloud.