"Do you know, I'm beginning to like the sage brush taste in the food," said Walter.
Stacy made up a face.
"I should think you would be ashamed to sit down to a meal with that countenance of yours, Chunky," declared Ned.
"I might with some company."
"See here, Chunky Brown. Do you mean——"
"I mean that my face will get over what ails it, but yours won't," was the fat boy's keen-edged retort.
"All of which goes to prove," announced Tad wisely, "that you never can tell, by the looks of a toad, how far it will jump. I guess you'd better let Chunky alone after this. He's perfectly able to take care of himself, Ned."
Ned subsided and devoted his further attention to his breakfast. The meal finished, all hands set briskly to work to strike camp. In half an hour the burros were loaded ready for the day's journey. The boys set off singing.
"I don't see how you can tell where you are going," said the Professor. "There is no sun and you have no compass."
"We are traveling almost due southwest. I never use a compass. It is not necessary."