"I'm very dusty," said the traveller.

"We don't mind at all," answered the girls. They liked the little man with his far-away look as if he belonged to another world and were seeing sights that no one around him was seeing.

"Isn't he a dear!" whispered Bet. "I like him!"

Little did the girls dream that most of their summer adventures would center around this shabby figure; adventures that would thrill them and at times almost overcome them.

If they had guessed it, they could not have been more cordial in their greeting and more eager to help him. Although none of them realized it, a problem to solve was already presenting itself.

CHAPTER V

_A SOLITARY EXPLORER_

As Matt Larkin brought his car to a stop, the traveller greeted them as if he were an old acquaintance and had made an appointment for them to meet him at this very spot in the desert and had been waiting and expecting them to come along. He took it as a matter of course that he would be invited to ride and the moment the door of the car was opened he scrambled in with quick, nervous movements.

He was a thin faced little man, stoop shouldered as if he had spent his life bent over books, but there was a charm in his twinkling eyes that made friends at once for him, no matter what society he entered. He was equally at home with people of wealth as he was with the poorest of his friends.

So eager was the old man to be seated, out of the scorching rays of the sun, that he left his bundle lying at the side of the road.

"Your pack!" called Kit, as Matt was about to start the car. "You've forgotten your pack!"

The man gave her a grateful smile. "That's just like me to leave it.

Alicia said I was sure to do just that," he laughed nervously.

He jumped out of the car and quickly recovered his property. "Don't know what I would have done if I'd lost it--all my sustenance and books."

"Listen to the old chap," whispered Joy in Shirley's ear. "He's a regular highbrow. Hear him talk! 'Sustenance', what does that mean?"

"Why, his food, of course," replied Shirley with a laugh.

"Then why didn't he say so? Isn't the word 'food' polite enough for him?" giggled Joy.

"I wonder who he is?" Kit was puzzled by the man. He did not belong to the desert, of that she was sure.

As if in answer to her thought, the stranger announced: "I am Anton Gillette of Dorsey College. I'm on an exploring expedition."

"A professor!" gasped Joy in a low voice. "He'll spoil all our fun.

We'll have to pretend we're clever or something of the sort." This was whispered in Bet's ear and brought forth a laugh.

"Be yourself, Joy! Don't try to be clever. It might strain you." Bet leaned forward eagerly and addressed the old man. "An exploring expedition! How interesting that sounds. What are you going to explore? And where?"

"Are you going to find a buried city?" asked Enid excitedly.

"Hardly a buried city in this country," he returned.

"But why? When there were seven cities of Troy and maybe more, why can't it be possible that there is one buried city here?"

"And maybe we could find a King Tut grave," suggested Shirley.

"That's an idea," said Bet, and the girls joined in the laugh, but the professor was serious.

"I don't mind telling you that it is something of that sort that I am after. I want to find the ruins of an old Indian village and find the grave of a certain old chief. How did you guess it?"

"We didn't," laughed Kit. "We were just hoping it might be so."

"This old chief was supposed to have been buried with many historical objects of the tribe, and it is his grave that I must find. It is all very interesting--very," nodded the professor.

"There are Indian mounds all over Arizona," said Kit. "I don't see how you will ever find the right one."

"I have a clue. It may be only an old legend without any foundation of truth in it, but I don't think so. It was at the scene of an Indian ma.s.sacre. A common enough story it is. The white men encroaching on the Indian lands," began Professor Gillette but Kit interrupted.

"There are thousands of legends like that. They are like the cactus, they grow everywhere in Arizona."

But the old professor was not to be discouraged so easily. "The Indians killed some white men and then soldiers came and there was a ma.s.sacre--mostly whites."

"There's nothing unusual about that story, Professor Gillette."

"True. But in this case a princess, the daughter of a chief, cursed her own people for their cruelty. And within a year the tribe at that village died out. Every man of them."

"Why that's the legend of Lost Canyon!" exclaimed Kit excitedly. "And does this princess come back and haunt the canyon, does she appear when anything crooked is being done around that section?"

"Yes, yes, that's the story. Lost Canyon, do you know where Lost Canyon is?" asked the old man with trembling eagerness.

"Lost Canyon was my playground since babyhood. It's like my front yard. I love it!"

"How wonderful! Then maybe you know this man." He fumbled in his pockets, taking out the contents of all of them, before he found the letter which he handed to Kit. "This is an introduction to a man who may be very useful to me."

Kit laughed happily as she read the name on the envelope. "Mr. William Patten." Returning the paper to the professor she said, "I should know that man well. He's my father!"

"Oh isn't that jolly, Kit!" cried Joy. "Imagine meeting someone who is on the way to see your father! That's a bit of luck, isn't it?"

"Dad will be very glad to help you," continued Kit.

"What a strange coincidence!" remarked the professor glowing with pleasure. His boyish smile offset the formal style that might have bothered the girls. His dark eyes were small and twinkling and he was so very nearsighted that it was necessary for him to look intently in order to see anything.

At that moment a loud report startled them. Joy gave a scream of fright. "What is it?" she cried excitedly. "Indians!"

"Shooting?" exclaimed the professor, half rising in his seat. "Is it a hold up?" He looked around in all directions. But the desert seemed devoid of human life.

"It means that we've blown out a tire," smiled Matt as he brought the car to a stop at the side of the road and got out muttering, "Of all the ding-busted places to get a flat! Not even a spear of gra.s.s for shade and no water hole nearer than Coyote Creek and that's ten miles away." Matt puffed as he unstrapped the spare tire and prepared to jack up the wheel.

The girls stood around, anxious to make themselves useful, but Matt paid no attention to their offers of help. He even scowled at Professor Gillette, and went on without answering him. Matt's face was red with the effort under the burning sun that scorched the flesh with its blistering rays. It seemed impossible that life could exist in that burned-out sandy waste.

Bet Baxter had not spoken. She was tremendously interested in the things she saw around her. Suddenly she gave an exclamation of surprise as her foot touched what appeared at first to be a light-colored stone, and saw it move.