“Is that so?” exclaimed Jack with a significant look at his chums.  “I think we can guess who they are.”

But old man McGee was busy fussing with the donkey and didn’t hear him.  He was going to carry the ladder back to town on the little creature’s back.  He lashed the ladder across the saddle so that it stuck out on both sides of the burro, who viewed the proceedings with a kind of mild surprise.  It brayed loudly and flapped its long ears in a way that made the boys laugh heartily.

“There,” said old man McGee at last, “that’s done.  Now I reckon I’ll bid you so-long and good-luck, and be on my way.  When are you goin’ ter start?”

“To-morrow morning,” replied Jack, “if everything is all right.”

“Hold on a minute,” said Tom suddenly, as old man McGee was riding off.  “I’ve got a notion for some rabbit pie.  Give me the rifle, Dick, and I’ll go a little way with Mr. McGee, as far as that little willow wood where you got the cotton-tails.”

“All right,” said Dick, “and tell you what I’ll do.  I’ll come, too.  I can borrow Jack’s rifle.”

“It’s in the tent,” said Jack.  “Take good care of it.”

“I’ll do that,” promised Dick.

Jack and Zeb went back to their task of putting the finishing touches on the Wondership, stocking her lockers with provisions for the Rattlesnake Island trip, while old man McGee, accompanied by the two boys, rode out of the camp.

The professor was away collecting specimens somewhere and had not been seen since breakfast time.

The donkey, carrying its odd burden, walked behind old McGee’s horse and the boys kept pace alongside, listening to the old prospector’s everlasting stories of how some day he would strike it rich.  His faith never wavered.  He believed implicitly that eventually he would make the “big strike” and live in affluence for the remainder of his life.

The willow grove, where Dick went rabbit-hunting, was up the river and on its banks far away from the water nothing grew but cactus, greasewood and mesquite.  As they neared it the monotony of the walk began to pall on Dick.  He wanted to have some fun.

He fell behind and took a magnifying glass from his pocket.  It was one he used in his photographic work.  Holding it up he focused the sun’s rays through it so that they fell in a tiny burning spot on the donkey’s back.  After a few seconds the heat burned through.  The donkey gave a loud bray and kicked up its heels wildly.

Before old man McGee knew what was happening, the creature had jerked the rope by which he was leading it out of the old man’s hand and dashed off toward the willow wood.

“Hey, come back, consarn ye!” shouted old McGee.  “What’s the matter with ther critter, anyhow?  He’s gone plum daffy.”

Dick, doubled up with laughter, watched the circus.  There was the donkey with the ladder across its back racing at full speed toward the wood, and after it came old McGee on his bony old horse, shouting at the top of his voice.