“I’m boiled alive!” groaned Stacy, who was found lying flat on his back, the picture of misery. “Put me on a chunk of ice. Oh, wow!”
“What is it?” called Tom Gray, running up red of face and out of breath.
“The geezer blew up,” moaned Chunky.
“Stop your nonsense!” commanded Hippy, giving his fat nephew a vigorous shake. “Did the geyser erupt?”
“Did it erupt? Look at me!”
“He’s been doin’ somethin’ to that spouter,” declared the guide, who had been examining the exploded “Infant.” “I reckon we’d better be git-tin’ out of here before one of them Park guards comes nosin’ ’round.”
“I can’t walk or ride. I’m all scalded,” complained Stacy. “I can’t even sit down, and I know I’ll have to sleep standing up, like a horse.”
“All right, stay where you are,” retorted Tom Gray. “When the guards come along I reckon you will move.”
This warning had the desired effect, and Chunky got up without assistance, starting at a limping run for his pony. He appeared to be stiff in every joint, and used his legs as if they were a pair of wooden pegs stuck into his body at the hips. It was a funny sight, but only Emma Dean laughed.
The Overlanders quickly mounted and rode away, finally pulling up under a thick growth of slender pines.