“Where is he? Where is he?” the boys were still shouting. “Show him to us.”
“He goes to bed an hour before sundown.” Doug chuckled in spite of himself. “He’s asleep in one of the plane’s wings now. You can’t see him until tomorrow.”
“Oh! Oh! Oh!” came in a disappointed chorus.
“It’s a good place to leave him,” Sheeley the pilot whispered to Doug. “Nothing like a little secrecy to make people keen for a thing.”
“But will he be safe there?” Doug’s brow wrinkled.
“Sure! Oh sure!” Sheeley assured him. “In a place like this, I roll up in my blankets and sleep on the cabin floor.”
So Doug and Goggles wandered away from the town to have a look at the glorious rolling prairies. Lit up as they were by the slanting rays of the setting sun, they offered the boys a view that time would never erase from their memories.
“Think of it!” said Doug, “tomorrow the wheat country; the next day the cattle country; then the gold-mining city. After that Spokane, and then the Pacific coast!”
“Don’t be too sure.” Goggles’ tone was a bit gloomy. “If we fail tomorrow, this place is our only destination.”
“You’re tired,” Doug said reassuringly. “You’ll feel better tomorrow.” He did; but not for long.