"No siree. That Teutonic sport paid hard cash fer ther plug. He tole the landlord that he means ter make a trip all through the Sierras hereabout, making a fine collection of pictures."
"He must be crazy, starting off alone in an unknown country," exclaimed Nat.
"Thet's jes' what they all tole him, but there ain't no use arguin' with er mule or a Dutchman when their mind's set. He started off about an hour ago with a roll of blankets, a frying pan and his picture box."
"He stands a chance of getting captured by Col. Morello's band," exclaimed Joe.
"It's likely," agreed Cal, "but what I was a goin' ter tell yer wuz that ther plug he bought was ther last one they had here. An' so now I'm stuck I guess, till they git some more up from ther valley."
"Tell you what you do," said Nat after a brief consultation with his chums, "why not take a ride with us as far as your way lies, and then proceed any way you like?"
"What, ride with you kids in thet gasolene tug boat?"
"Yes, we'd be glad to have you. You know the roads and the people up through here, and could help us a whole lot."
"Say, that's mighty white of yer," said Cal, a broad smile spreading over his face, "if I wouldn't be in ther way now——"