"He's been boiling himself!" exclaimed the guide, with quick intuition.

Grasping the fat boy, Parry threw him flat on the ground and began rolling him in the sand. Stacy yelled more l.u.s.tily than before.

"Run to my saddlebags. Fetch the black bottle you will find there!"

commanded the guide. "It's oil, yes. Hurry, before his skin all peels off."

Tad was back with the black bottle in no time. Tom Parry spread the oil over the blistered flesh of the fat boy, whose yells grew less and less explosive as he felt the soothing effects of the grease on his body.

"Wha--what happened?" stammered Walter.

"I--I fell in."

"In where?" questioned the Professor sharply.

"I don't know. It was hot."

"Put your clothes on. You'll be all right in a little while. Where did you leave them?"

Stacy pointed back on the desert some distance, whereat Parry laughingly said he would go in search of the clothing.

"Now if you will be good enough to tell me what all this uproar is about, I shall be obliged to you," requested the Professor.

"Why, the boy found a boiling spring----"

"And he fell in," added Ned solemnly.

"He did," agreed the guide, without the suspicion of a smile.

"Is that it, Master Stacy?"

Stacy nodded.

"Tell me about it."

"I--I was walking along with my hands in my pockets----"

"Thinking," interjected Ned.

"What'd you suppose I was doing! Ain't I always thinking when I'm not asleep?"

"Go on, go on," urged Ned unsympathetically.

"All at once something slipped. I went right through the ground. At first I thought I was a pond of ice water, it felt so cold. Next thing I knew I was burning up."

"But your clothes? What did you have them off for?" urged the Professor.

"I took them off when I thought I was burning up. Say, fellows, that was the hottest ice water I ever took a bath in my life."

The boys could barely resist their inclination to laugh.

"Why don't you laugh if you want to? Never mind me. I don't count,"

growled Chunky.

Parry explained that these boiling springs were not infrequent on the desert. They were found, generally, further north, he said. This one must have worked its way up through the alkali until only a thin crust covered it, and this crust the boy had had the misfortune to step on and break through.

"You wouldn't think there were so many pitfalls under this baked desert, would you?" questioned Ned.

"I look like a piece of human sandpaper, don't I?" muttered Stacy ruefully, as he carefully drew on his clothes. "Every time I sit down I'll remember that hot ice water."

CHAPTER XII

RUNNING DOWN THE TRAIL

"Thank goodness, we're in the foothills," sighed Tad, when three days later they came to a halt at the base of the San Antonio Range far down on the Nevada Desert.

"Yes, it is a relief to see some real rocks once more," agreed Walter.

"Chunky, look out that you don't step into any more ice water. You'll miss the horse-hunt if you do."

"No danger of that up here," laughed the guide.

Behind them lay the desert maze, to the right and left, mountain ranges, high plateaux, mesas and b.u.t.tes. Giant yucca trees, short, spreading pinon and spindling cedars clothed the higher peaks of the San Antonio Range.

Trees, too, were scattered about in the foothills, and though they gave little shade it was a relief to every sense of the Pony Riders to feel the hills and trees about them.

There, with what little shade they could get, the lads made camp. As yet they had found no water, though Parry said there would be springs in plenty further up in the mountains. The bags still held enough to last them until the following day, so no effort was made to locate fresh water that afternoon.

Stacy had thrown himself down under one of the yucca trees, but the late afternoon sun filtered through the branches, making his face look red and heated.

"You don't seem to be getting much shade from that tree," laughed the guide.

"'Bout as much as I would from a barbed wire fence," frowned Stacy.

"What do you know about barbed-wire fences?" demanded Ned.

"Me? Know all 'bout them. One night I had a falling out with one, when I was taking a short cut across the fields to get home."

"How about the apples? Did you get them?" asked Tad.

"Apples? What do you know 'bout it? Were you there, too?"

A laugh greeted the fat boy's reply.

"Come, come, young men. Are you going to make camp?" urged the Professor.

"Didn't know we were going to remain here to-night," replied Walter.

"Of course we're going to make camp if that's the case. It'll be a good time to shake the alkali dust out of our belongings and from ourselves."