"At this minute I was wishing I had a piece of apple pie," he answered, hitching his belt a little tighter.
CHAPTER XII
ROUGH RIDERS IN THE SADDLE
The afternoon had grown old when a distant "C-oo-ee-e," told them that
Lige Thomas was on his way back to camp.
They answered his call with a wild whoop, and were for rushing off to meet him. But Professor Zepplin advised them to remain where they were and get the fire going in case Lige had failed to find the pack train. He no doubt would bring food of some kind with him. The fire would be ready and thus no time would be lost in preparing the first meal of the day, which, in this case, would be breakfast, dinner and supper all in one.
The boys awaited the guide's approach with impatience, some pacing back and forth, while others coaxed the fire into a roaring blaze, at the same time confiding to each other how hungry they were.
After what had seemed an interminable time they heard Jose urging along the lazy burros.
It was a gladsome sound to this band of hungry boys, whose ordinarily healthy appetites, under the bracing mountain air and the long fast, had taken on what the Professor described as a "razor edge."
"Now you may go," he nodded.
With a shout, the boys dashed pell-mell to meet the pack train, and, falling in behind the slow-moving burros, urged them on with derisive shouts and sundry resounding slaps on the animals' flanks.