I am more anxious than ever to get to the place." "But what about Porter ?" "Where he has gone is a mystery," said Merriwell, "but I think Blunt and his cowboy friends offer a more promising clew to the prof's whereabouts.

We'll forget about Porter for the present, and give our attention to Blunt." They talked in whispers for a short time longer, and then sat back suddenly in their chairs as McGurvin came into the room with two filled canteens and a small canvas bag of rations.
Merry exchanged five silver dollars for the supplies, and then the rancher followed the boys out and watched them while they started their machines.
"A couple o' gasoline go-devils, by thunder!" muttered McGurvin.

"All kinds o' ways o' beatin' a man that sells water out o' his rights.

If ye didn't have them contraptions, ye'd be shackin' along on a couple o' bronks, an my well 'u'd bring me in two bits a head fer each of 'em." The rancher was still sputtering as the boys raced off through the starlight, heading into the desert.

As soon as they were well away.
McGurvin's wrath died in his throat, and he gave vent to a husky chuckle.
"On ter Happenchance, or I'm a Piute!" he muttered jubilantly.