“Yes,” said the doctor coldly, “but the success or failure of the expedition depends upon our being punctilious. A stitch in time saves nine, my dear boy.”
“But—” began Wilton, in a tone of protest.
“One moment,” said the doctor. “Let me make a suggestion. We want to start early every morning for Unknownia, if you will let me coin a name for the place of our search.”
“Of course,” said Bourne.
“We must always break the neck of our journey by getting over a good many miles before the heat of the day sets in.”
“That’s good advice,” cried Griggs.
“Very well, then,” continued the doctor; “we don’t want to waste time in lighting fires and hunting up horses and mules that have strayed no one knows where in the course of the night, do we?”
“No, of course not. I see,” said Wilton. “I give in.”
“The man who takes the morning watch will have breakfast ready before daybreak, and then there will be nothing to do but load up the mules and start off the moment it is light enough.”
There were no dissenters from the leader’s practical proposals, and he elected to take the first half of the night’s watch himself, Griggs to take the second, and soon afterwards the animals were hobbled and left to graze, one of the barn-like buildings was chosen for resting-place, and those who were free from duty lay down to sleep. The two boys naturally enough made up their bed of dry sage-brush on the decaying floor of the building, and then, in response to the doctor’s orders to get off to sleep at once so as to be well rested and fresh for the next day’s work, they lay wide awake, talking in whispers.