After a brief examination of the engine Lathrop announced that the party could proceed, and he started up the engine cautiously. It seemed to work all right, and once more the auto moved forward. They had not proceeded more than two miles when they heard a shout in the air over their heads, and there was the _Golden Eagle_ circling not far above them.
Lathrop instantly stopped the machine, and the aeroplane swept down. Frank and Harry had brought with them a plentiful supply of water in canteens.
The boys drank as if they would never stop.
“I never tasted an ice-cream soda as good,” declared Billy.
Refreshed and invigorated, the adventurers resumed their journey toward Gitalong as soon as they had fully quenched their thirst, and poured some of the water over their sun-parched faces and hands. They reached the town late in the evening and were warmly welcomed by the citizens, mostly cowboys and Indians, who had sat up to await their arrival. Several of them, in fact, rode far out onto the prairie and, with popping revolvers and loud yells, escorted the auto party into town.
The aeroplane was stored in a livery stable that night, while the boys registered at the Lucky Strike hotel. The Lucky Strike’s menu was mostly beans, but they made a good meal. They had hardly got into their beds, which were all placed in a long room, right under the rafters, when they heard to their amazement the sound of an auto approaching the place. It drew up in front of the hotel and the listeners heard heavy steps as its occupants climbed out of it and entered the bar.
They called for drinks in loud tones, and then demanded to see a man they called Wild Bill Jenkins.
“Why, Wild Bill Jenkins is just sitting in a friendly game o’ monte,” the boys could hear the bartender reply, “but if it’s anything very partic’lar I’ll call him, though he’ll rile up rough at bein’ disturbed.”
“Yes, it is very particular,” piped up another voice, evidently that of one of the automobile arrivals; “we must see him at once.”
The boys, with a start, recognized the voice of the speaker as that of Luther Barr.
“Must hev come quite a way in that buzz wagon of yours, stranger,” volunteered the bartender.
“Yes, we’ve driven over from Pintoville—it’s a good twenty miles, I should say.”