Dave Brandon threw himself wearily upon a flat rock.
"Oh, but I am tired," he exclaimed. "This truck weighs a ton. Where are we going to stop, Jim?"
"I know a dugout that's just the thing for us," responded Havens. "Sanders and I used it for a while last year. A long time ago, 'Surly Joe' hung out there."
"'Surly Joe', that's a nice name," laughed Bob. "A good disposition, I suppose, eh?"
"Such a nice one that I hope we don't meet him. But there isn't a better hunter around these parts than Joe Tomlin."
"Why, that's the old chap we saw at the hotel," put in Dick Travers. "Remember, Bob?"
"Sure thing. Don't wonder they call him 'Surly Joe.' He certainly looked sour enough."
"He's a good friend of 'Big Bill's,'" explained Havens. "Every once in a while Joe gets to the village, but he and I don't gee together a bit."
"This climbing is tough work," drawled Dave. "I ache all over. How far is that dugout, Havens?"
"We ought to reach it before nightfall."