Part 30 (1/2)

CHAPTER XXIV

WHAT CHEWING GUM DID

”But, Bud, how?”

”Easy enough. Hyar,” he exclaimed, looking back at the hors.e.m.e.n behind him, ”whar's that dude Chick Berry?”

”Here I be, Bud,” replied a small, freckle-faced cowboy with blue silk ribbons on his s.h.i.+rt sleeves and other marks of the cowboy dude about him.

”Got any of that thar gum you's always achewin' so as ter be agreeable to ther ladies?” demanded Bud.

”Sh.o.r.e, 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 fas.h.i.+on, 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.

With an answering wave of the hand Peggy threw in the clutch that started the aeroplane forward, and after their long enforced delay they once more took the air. But a day had practically gone--a day in which the fight for the mine might have been lost.

Never had Peggy urged an aeroplane to greater speed than she did the fast monoplane, at the wheel of which she was now stationed. The desert floor flew by beneath them in a dull blur. The roar and vibration of the powerful motor shook the car like a leaf.

Wandering William said nothing, but he gazed rather apprehensively over the side from time to time. Also he might have been observed to clutch at his hair occasionally.

”Can you see anything of the town yet?”

The professor leaned forward and shouted the question in Peggy's ear. He had to do so in order to make himself heard above the roar of the engine.

Peggy shook her head, but motioned to a pocket in which were a pair of field-gla.s.ses.

Wandering William understood, and raising them, held them to his eyes.

The sun was low and a reddish haze overhung the desert. But presently into the field of the binoculars there swung a-tall water tower. It marked the site of Blue Creek.