“And we couldn’t fasten the other on the mule’s back. Is there nothing else we could do?”
“I can’t see anything but going right on. Let’s catch up to the mule now and keep on talking so as to forget about being so faint. I say, how fast one’s clothes dry!”
“Yes,” said Chris; “and how cool one feels in spite of the sun coming down as if it would roast us. Do you know why it is?”
“No,” replied Ned.
“I’ll tell you, then. Father told me once. He said it was one of the laws of physics.”
“I say, don’t talk about physic now.”
“Who was talking about physic, stupid? I said physics—natural science. Father said that in evaporation a feeling of coolness always comes on. That’s what we feel now as the water in our clothes evaporates. He showed me how to cool water by filling a bottle and wrapping it in flannel, then keeping it wet and standing it in the sun.”
“Yes, I knew that made it cooler, but I didn’t know it had anything to do with evaporation. Then the water in the barrels must be nice and cool.”
“Nay, not it,” said Chris sharply. “That’s getting warm, because the outside of the barrels is not kept wet.—Well, old Skeeter’s brother, how are you getting on?” he cried, as they rode up one on either side of the mule, the only answer being the cocking of one ear in the speaker’s direction, the other at Ned.
“Let’s give up worrying about it, Chris,” said Ned at last. “We can do nothing else but keep on as we are, only hoping and praying that they’re all lying down trying to sleep till we come. It’s impossible to get on any faster.”