“What did you do about it?” inquired Elfreda Briggs.
“Do? I expressed my sentiments in a message to the superintendent that made the wires sing. I’ll get action or I’ll—”
“Get into jail,” finished Emma amid laughter.
“Well, not this trip,” responded Lieutenant Wingate dryly. “I just came over to tell you. I’m going back now to see what the Super has to say in reply. I’ll let you know as soon as something develops. ’Bye!”
By the time Hippy reached the station the agent had received orders regarding the car of draft horses but no information regarding the ponies, so Lieutenant Wingate sent another message, more forceful than he had sent before. Still no reply. Hippy sent still another one; and he continued to send messages to various railroad officials, messages that had a punch in them.
In the meantime Grace and Tom had walked into the village, first to the post office, then to the hotel, to inquire if there were a place nearby where they might procure horses for their journey, and to make further inquiries about a guide, provided they should need one. Their quest amounted to this: There was a stock farm about ten miles from Cinnabar where horses might possibly be obtained, but neither the hotel proprietor nor the postmaster knew where they could find a guide, as, at this, the busiest period of the tourist traffic, guides were in great demand.
“When you get into the Park you no doubt will be able to pick up someone who knows the Park. If not, why not take a Concord coach or a car and do the Park the way other tourists do?” the hotel proprietor suggested.
“Because we prefer to ride our horses through,” answered Tom briefly. “Come, Grace!”
They returned to camp, first having made some food purchases, and shortly after their arrival Hippy came in, but he still had no news for them, and that night the Overland Riders turned in rather glum, for their misfortune at the very beginning of the season’s outing disturbed them considerably. Then again, the ponies belonging to their outfit were trained animals and represented quite a heavy investment; but, like the good travelers they were, the Overland Riders tried to make the best of their troubles, hoping that the morrow might bring them better luck.
The morning, however, failed to bring anything in the way of news, and once more Lieutenant Wingate began bombarding officials with telegrams. This continued for three days following; then, one morning, the camp was awakened by a loud halloo, which brought all hands to instant wakefulness. Hippy ran out from his tent in his pajamas.