Don't
bother about me. I'm drowned every day. Another boat with the rest of
us should be along shortly. Hope they salvaged some of the stuff."
"What in time are you trying to do on the river, anyhow?" demanded
Curly. "There's simpler ways of committing suicide."
The young man laughed. "Oh, we're some more fools trying to get from
Green River to Needles!"
"On a bet?" asked Mack.
"Hardly! On a job! Geological Survey! Four of us! There they come!
Whoo--ee!"
He staggered to his feet, as another boat shot around the curve. But
this one came through in proper style, right side up, two men manning
the oars and a third with a steering paddle. With an answering shout,
they ran quickly up on the shore. They were a rough-bearded, overalled
lot, young men, all of them.
"Gee whiz, Harden! We thought you were finished!" exclaimed the
tallest of the trio.
"I would have been, but for these folks," replied Harden. "Here, let's
make some introductions!"
They were stalwart fellows. Milton, the leader, was sandy-haired and
freckled, a University of California man. Agnew was stocky and
swarthy, an old Princeton graduate and Forrester, a thin, blonde chap
had worked in New York City before he joined the Geological Survey.
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