"It's going to be a long hard trek for a fat man," blurted Dan. Then he blushed and stammered, "Excuse me! You're not so terribly fat! What I mean is, it's a hot trip across the desert. I minded it myself."
The Mahatma smiled. "Don't apologize, my son! And have no fear about the long journey, for my crystal tells me that we shall fly there through the air."
"Oh, you mean in the plane. That's where we are all out of luck. Jess Slythe crashed it this morning."
"So my crystal told me," said the Hindu. "But we do not need that plane. Another one is on the way now. It is many times larger than this one and can carry us with ease."
"You mean my father's plane?" Dan was excited at the prediction.
"Did you not say that your father had an airplane that could fly with us—even to Holy India? Behold, it is flying toward us even now."
Dick, Dan and Ray all searched the sky for a glimpse of Rex Carter's cabin plane, but there was not a speck in the blue.
"False alarm!" laughed Ray. "Lucky we have horses!"
"You're going to admit that you're wrong," teased Dan.
Dick produced his binoculars from the case that hung over his shoulder and studied the heavens but there was no trace of a plane to be seen anywhere.