Rector.

"I want my pants," wailed Stacy.

"You'll want more than that. Look at the guide, if you think you are in difficulties," grinned Tad.

All eyes were turned on Tom Parry. Then they uttered a shout that might have been heard far off on the silent desert. The guide was clad only in a blue flannel shirt and a sombrero. He was in an even worse predicament than the party that he was guiding.

Minutes passed before the boys could control their merriment sufficiently to permit a discussion of their situation.

Tom Parry took their joking good-naturedly. He was too old a campaigner to be greatly disturbed over his own laughable condition.

"Something must be done," announced the Professor, after the laughter had subsided. "What do you propose, Mr. Parry?"

"Well, in the first place, like our friend, Master Stacy Brown, I want a pair of pants. I can't very well cross the desert in this rig."

Once more their laughter drowned the voices of the guide and the Professor.

"Is there no town near here where we can get a fresh outfit? I am thankful that I kept my money belt strapped about me. We should be in a tight fix, had I lost the funds, too," said the Professor.

"I have been considering what is best to be done," replied Parry. "I see no other way than that we shall have to ride to Eureka. That is a railroad terminal and quite a town. I am sure we shall be able to get there all we need for our journey. It will prove a little more expensive than in a larger city, however."

"No question of expense just now," answered the Professor. "Will it be necessary for all of us to go?"

"I think it will be best. I don't care to leave any of the party behind. One never can tell what is going to happen, you know."

"So I have observed," commented the Professor dryly.

"How far is Eureka from here?" questioned Tad.

"Between twenty-five and thirty miles. The town lies to the northwest. If it were not for the pack train we could make it quickly, but we shall have to move rather slowly on the burros' account."

"Then why not start at once?" suggested Tad Butler. "The moon is shining brightly and the air is cool. That is, if you can find the way?"

"No trouble about that," grinned Parry. "Your suggestion is a good one. We'll start just as soon as I can get ready."

"I don't see anything left here to get ready," laughed Ned.

"You will excuse me, gentlemen, but there is something that I shall have to get ready," replied the guide with a peculiar smile.

"What's that?" demanded the Professor.

"I've got to take a double reef in my shirt before I can go anywhere, except to bed."

The boys shouted again.

Tom Parry hurried off beyond the ponies, where he was engaged for several minutes. When he returned they discovered that he had taken off his shirt. First he had cut off the sleeves, and by thrusting his feet through the arm holes had made for himself a very substantial pair of trunks. This odd outfit he had made fast about his waist with a thong of leather that he had cut from a bridle rein. This, with the broad-brimmed sombrero, completed his outfit.

The sight was too much for the Pony Rider Boys. They shouted peal after peal of merriment, in which the Professor joined, though in a somewhat more dignified manner.

Tom Parry's mouth was stretched in a grin as he got busy saddling the ponies and urging the sleepy burros to their feet.

"I think we are all ready now," the guide called back to the others.

With many a shout and jest the strange procession started off across the desert, under the brightly shining moon, the cool evening breezes making their scanty covering none too comfortable.

The boys devoted the greater part of their attention to the Professor and Tom Parry, both of whom were riding as dignifiedly as if they were leading a parade at a Fourth of July celebration. Every little while the boys, unable to contain themselves longer, would burst out into merry peals of laughter.

"Hope it doesn't snow," said Stacy Brown wisely.

"No," retorted Ned. "The colors in your pajamas might run."

"That's where the guide has the better of us," retorted Tad a little maliciously, which brought still another laugh from the boys.

"Say, fellows, this saddle is getting harder every minute," called Chunky, who was riding back and forth behind the pack train, urging on the burros.

"Stand up in your stirrups now and then," suggested Tad.

"What, in my bare feet?" yelled the fat boy. "Think I want to get pancake feet?"

"Chunky's getting aristocratic," jeered Ned. "He's so proud of those high insteps of his that he has to take off his shoes every little while to look at his feet. He's afraid they'll cave in some time when he isn't looking."

Daylight came all too soon, and following it the sun burst forth in a blaze of heat. Ahead of them across the desert they were able to make out the town of Eureka.

"Say, Mr. Parry, aren't you afraid this sunlight will spoil your complexion?" called Ned.

The guide grinned good-naturedly.

"Never mind," he retorted. "Your turn will come pretty soon, young man."

Ned Rector did not catch the significance of the remark just then, but he understood a few hours later.

CHAPTER IV

THE CHARGE OF THE LIGHT BRIGADE

"You are not going to ride into town in daylight, are you?" demanded Ned in surprise.

Though they had sighted the town of Eureka early in the morning, it was well along in the afternoon before they finally came up with it. Desert distances are deceptive and the further they journeyed the less headway did they seem to be making. This surprised all save the guide.

Parry explained to them that the clear air brought distant objects much closer than they really were.

"We are going into town exactly as we are," replied the guide in answer to Ned's question. "Why not?"

"Well, maybe you are, but I'm not," returned Ned.

"It may improve your complexion, young man," retorted Mr. Parry.

"I'll stay out here and hide on the desert while the rest of you go on in," said Ned.

"No, you don't," shouted the lads all at once. "You go willingly or we carry you."

They gathered around him threateningly.

"If you want a mix-up, we're here," warned Chunky, pushing his pony up beside that of Ned Rector.

Ned, forgetting for the instant that he was in his bare feet, let drive a kick at the side of Stacy's pony.

"Ouch!" roared Ned.

Jerking the injured toe up to the saddle, he grabbed it with both hands, rocking back and forth, for his foot had struck the pony with such violence that it is a wonder every toe on the foot was not broken.

"Did 'oo hurt 'oo little tootsie-wootsies?" cooed Chunky, with a grimace.

Ned Rector, forgetting the pain for the instant, made a quick grab for his tormentor. He just barely reached the sleeve of Chunky's pajamas. But his sudden movement caused the fat boy's pony to leap suddenly to one side.

Ned landed on his head and shoulders in the desert sand, feet kicking the air, to the accompaniment of yells of derision from his companions.

With red face and angry eyes, the lad scrambled to his feet and started limping to his pony, which had sprung to one side, where it stood, evidently wondering what next was about to happen.

"I'll get even with you, Chunky Brown," Ned growled, as he climbed into his saddle.

"Now, now, Ned!" warned the boys. "Take your medicine like a man. Chunky never got mad when you nagged him."

"I'll get even with him. I'll——"

Tad rode up beside the angry lad.

"Ned, you'll do nothing of the sort," said the boy gently. "You're mad, now, because your toes hurt. When they stop aching your temper will improve at the same time."

"Oh, pshaw! Stop your preaching. Of course it will. I'm a grouch. I take