"Shore, Bud," rejoined Chick, pulling off an embroidered gauntlet and extracting a pink package from his breast pocket.
"Wall, chaw some quick, and chaw it good. I need it."
Chick's jaws worked overtime. Presently he handed a small wad of glutinous gum to his leader.
"Na-ow then," announced Bud, dismounting, "I'm goin' ter show you a hurry up repair job."
He squatted, cow-boy fashion, in front of the radiator, and with deft fingers pressed the gum into the leak.
"Let it dry a minute an' I'll bet ye that what-you-may-call-um will be as tight as a drum. No, don't give me no credit fer ther idee. I seen a feller fix his gasoline gig that way one day when I was down in San Antone,"
At the expiration of a few anxious minutes, water was poured into the radiator, and, to their immense relief, Bud's hastily contrived bit of plumbing worked. The radiator held water perfectly and a few moments later Peggy started the engine.
But at the first revolutions of the propellers a strange thing happened. On the spot where, a second before, had stood a group of interested horse hunters, not one remained after the propeller had whizzed round a couple of times. They were scattered all over the desert, their ponies maddened beyond all control by terror at the noise and smoke of the aeroplane's motor.
Bud alone managed to spur his pony close to the throbbing machine.
"Good bye and good luck!" he shouted, and waved his hat. The next instant his pony swung round on its hind legs and dashed off to join its terrified companions.