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Only at the half-breed settlement twenty miles north of Clarkeville had they seen a human being. Therefore, after they had been in camp about an hour, even the vigilant, experienced Buck was startled to observe suddenly a solitary Indian his horse as statuesque as himself watching them from a knoll some two hundred yards distant.

I lost me card case. Me nom de plumb is Kid, Californy Kid. And me address is well wot's de name o' dis munificent metropolis?" "Clarkeville, New Mexico," answered Alan smiling. "Well, den me address is dat. Wot's de nex' inquiry?" The man was young.

Of course all speed was made toward the foothills and that evening Alan and Bob, the former only a shadow of the lively youngster who had left Clarkeville but two weeks before, were found and rescued. That night there was a new camp on the Chusco and meat and hot bread. The only shadow to dim the happiness of the rescued boys was the recollection of the murdered Buck.

Can you walk two miles an hour?" "Sho'ly," smiled Elmer, showing his white teeth. "Well, that's thirty miles a day. If we could do that for four days we'd be in Clarkeville!" "Claikeville in fo' days it am den," echoed Elmer, "or bust." "We've got six soup tablets. If we dine on one at ten o'clock in the morning and one at seven o'clock in the evening we'll have regular meals for three days."

The towering plateaus, cut with yawning canyons, are plainly the result of some special volcanic action. This unknown region extends over a hundred miles northwest and southeast, and on all sides drops suddenly into the sandy deserts. At Clarkeville the desert begins at once.

Then Mayor Bradley explained his presence in that mysterious way in which bad news always travels friendly Indians had sent him word of the attack on Buck's outfit and of the death of the veteran plainsman. This news had just reached Clarkeville and Mayor Bradley had at once set out to find the body if possible, and assist those who escaped.

With the departure of the train, the two boys became the center of some attention. Strangers were not plentiful in Clarkeville, and when the news spread that a special car was standing behind the freight shed on the far side of the tracks there was an instant rush of idlers in that direction.

The address ran: "Mr. Ned Napier, Private car Placida, Clarkeville, New Mexico." Tearing open the envelope Ned read: "Just learned Kansas City Comet has story mysterious trip for government starting Clarkeville. Real object not known. Look out not followed. "Baldwin Honeywell." With three jumps Ned was in the car and had pull Alan into the drawing room portion.

Ned and Alan returned with them and smiling good-naturedly right and left took stand at the forward car steps. It was about two o'clock in the afternoon, but so anxious had the boys become in the last stage of their journey that they had ordered Elmer to put off the noonday meal until they reached Clarkeville.

"When I pass the word I guess they'll all think about like me," interrupted the Clarkeville official. "Ye jest tell me what it is you want." "First I'll explain to you that in the other part of this car we have the material to make a dirigible balloon." "A what!" exclaimed the Mayor, his mouth full of chicken. "A balloon that you can guide through the air." Curt Bradley dropped his knife.