"Nor take another of Chunky"s Rip Van Winkle sleeps," added Ned.
Never having had a like experience, none of the lads knew what to do with their mounts after getting them sufficiently awake to lead them to a place of safety. They appealed to Juan for advice, but the lazy Mexican appeared to know even less than they.
Tad, after studying the question a few moments, decided to give them water, though sparingly. This they appeared to relish and braced up quite a little. But the boy would not allow them to graze until nearly noon, when each one took his pony out, making sure that there was none of the sleepy gra.s.s around. The animals were then permitted to graze.
About the middle of the afternoon Tad decided that all were fit to continue the journey, and that it would be safe to travel until sunset. Everyone was glad to get away from the spot where they had had such unpleasant experiences, and the boys set off, moving slowly, the stock not yet being in the best of condition.
Late in the afternoon, when they had about decided to make camp, one of the boys espied an object, something like a quarter of a mile away, that looked like the roof of a house.
Ned said it couldn"t be that, as it appeared to be resting on the ground. They asked Juan if he knew what it was, and for a wonder he did. He said it was a dug-out--a place where a man lived.
"Is he a hermit?" asked Stacy apprehensively, at which there was a laugh. Stacy had not forgotten his experiences in the cave of the hermit of the Nevada Desert.
For the next hour, the lads were too busy, pitching tents and unloading the pack animals, to give further thought to the dug-out or its occupant; but when, after they had prepared their evening meal, they saw some one approaching on horseback, they were instantly curious again.
The newcomer proved to be the owner of the dug-out. He was a tall, square-jawed man, with a short, cropped iron-gray beard and small blue, twinkling eyes.
"Will you join us and have some supper?" asked Tad politely, walking out to greet the stranger.
"Thank you; I will, young man," smiled the stranger.
Tad introduced himself and companions.
"You probably have heard my name before, young men. It is Kris Kringle; I"m living out here for my health and doing a little ranching on the side."
Stacy looked his amazement.
"Is--is he Santa Claus?" he whispered, tugging at Tad"s coat sleeve.
"No, young man. I am not related to the gentleman you refer to,"
grinned Mr. Kringle.
There was a general laugh at Stacy"s expense.
After supper, the visitor invited all hands to ride over to his dug-out and spend the evening with him. The boys accepted gladly, never having seen the inside of a dug-out, and not knowing what one looked like. Professor Zepplin had taken a sudden liking to the man with the Christmas name, and soon the two were engaged in earnest conversation.
The distance being so short, Tad decided that they had better walk, leaving the ponies in charge of Juan so they might get a full night"s rest. Then all hands set out for the dug-out.
A short flight of steps led down into the place, the roof of which was raised just far enough above the ground to permit of two narrow windows on each side and at the rear end.
The room in which they found themselves, proved to be a combination kitchen and dining room. Its neatness and orderliness impressed them at once.
"And here," said Kris Kringle, "is what I call my den," throwing open a door leading into a rear room and lighting a hanging oil lamp.
The Pony Rider Boys uttered an exclamation of surprised delight.
On a hardwood floor lay a profusion of brightly colored Navajo rugs, the walls being hung with others of exquisite workmanship and coloring, interspersed with weapons and trophies of the chase, while in other parts of the room were rare specimens of pottery from ancient adobe houses of the Pueblos.
At the far end of the room was a great fire-place. Book cases, home-made, stood about the room, full of books. The Professor realized, at once, that they were in the home of a student and a collector.
"This is indeed an oasis in the desert," he glowed. "I shall be loath to leave here."
"Then don"t," smiled Mr. Kringle. "I"m sure I am glad enough to have company. Seldom ever see anyone here, except now and then a roving band of Indians."
"Indians!" exclaimed Tad. "Do you have any trouble with them?"
"Well, they know better than to bother with me much. We have had an occasional argument," said their host, his jaws setting almost stubbornly for the instant. "Most of the tribes in the state are peaceful, though the Apaches are as bad as ever. They behave themselves because they have to, not because they wish to do so."
"I saw their fire dance the other night," began Tad.
"What?" demanded Mr. Kringle.
"Fire dance."
"Tell me about it?"
Tad did so, the host listening with grave face until the recital was ended.
He shook his head disapprovingly.
"And this--this Indian that you knocked down--was he an Apache?"
"I don"t know. I think so, though. He had on a peculiar head dress
"That was one of them," interrupted Mr. Kringle, with emphasis. "And I"ll wager you haven"t heard the last of him yet. That"s an insult which the Apache brave will harbor under his copper skin forever.
He"ll wait for years, but he"ll get even if he can."
The faces of the Pony Rider Boys were grave.
"Have you a reliable guide?"
"Far from it," answered the Professor. "If I knew where I could get another, I"d pack him off without ceremony."
Kris Kringle was silent for a moment.
"I need a little change of scene," he smiled. "How would you like to have me take the trail with you for a week or so?"
"Would you?" glowed the Professor, half rising from his chair.
"I think I might."
"Hurrah!" cried the Pony Riders enthusiastically. "That will be fine."
"Of course, you understand that I expect no pay. I am going because I happen to take a notion to do so. Perhaps I"ll be able to serve you at the same time."
The Professor grasped Mr. Kringle by the hand impulsively.
"I"ll send that lazy Juan on his way this very night--"