“As cook or guide?” interjected Nora Wingate.
“The former, I believe.”
“This outfit needs a good cook,” suggested Chunky.
“Woo, do you know horses?” asked Tom Gray.
“Les.”
“That reminds me, Chunky, what have you done about the pack animals?” demanded Lieutenant Wingate.
“Got three dandies. I have learned that we must travel light. They say that the trails are very rough in the High Country, and further, that we must depend upon the country for our food, generally speaking. I don’t know what Uncle Hip and I are going to do if it comes to short rations. Of course, as a last resort we can eat the pack-horses. They eat horses in France, so why shouldn’t we do the same, if we’re hungry enough.”
“That reminds me. One of the men out with us on our search for Hippy declared that our ponies would not be suitable for this journey, and that it requires animals accustomed to the peculiarities of the Sierras,” averred Tom Gray.
“Oh, pooh!” grunted the fat boy. “My pony could climb a tree.”
“How much money do you wish, Woo?” questioned Tom.