"I must uphang my door to-morrow," said Gustav. "Vat place did you put the hinges?"
"Hinges! By Jove, we haven't a hinge to our names!" exclaimed Ernest. "Dick will have to help us out again."
But for once Dick failed them. "It's too bad," he told Ernest the next day, "but I've been meaning to get hinges every time I've gone to town. But I forgot. You'll have to use some stout leather, the way I do."
"Well, let me have some leather, then," begged Ernest
"Sorry, old chap, but there's not a scrap of leather an inch long around this place. You see I sole Charley's and my shoes, and I've robbed all the mines around here of belting to do it with and that doesn't mean that I've had much belting either. Lots of other people have had the same idea I've had. But take a day off and go up to the Sun's Luck, five miles up that trail yonder and I think you'll find a few pieces."
Ernest groaned, then laughed. "Dick, poor old Roger will faint at the idea of more delay, and for hinges! We'd better let the doors go till some of us go into Archer's."
Dick shook his head. "Ern, you get those doors up, and up right. I'm betting on there not being a real sand storm for six weeks yet, but if one should come, and you have any delicate apparatus in the engine house, you'll regret not having sand proof doors and windows. And to tell the truth, Charley and Felicia are both nearly bare foot."
"So am I," said Ernest, "and Rog is too."
"What's a day in the desert?" laughed Dick. "Go on and bring down some leather for the crowd, Ern."
And go he did, although Roger protested until Ernest mentioned the matter of Charley's and Felicia's shoes. Then he gave a ready consent. Ernest returned by mid-afternoon with perhaps a yard of belting, the half of which he gave to Dick, much to that hard worked gentleman's delight.