The Professor gazed straight into the stern face of the guide, whose
whiskers were still drooping.

"We are prisoners here? Is that it, Nance?" stammered Professor Zepplin.

"That's about it, I reckon. The trail's busted. There ain't no other
way to get out that I know of and I reckon I know these canyons pretty
well."

"Then what shall we do?"

"Well, I reckon we'll wait till somebody misses us and comes down
after us."

"Oh, well, they will do that this morning. Of course they will miss
us," declared the Professor, as if the matter were entirely settled.

The expression on Dad's face plainly showed that he was not quite so
confident as was the Professor. There was one factor that Professor
Zepplin had not taken into consideration. Food! There was barely
enough left for a meal for one person. Dad surmised this, so he asked
Tad just how much food they had left.

"Our supply," said Tad, "consists of three biscuit, one orange and two
lemons."

The boys groaned.

"I'll take the biscuit. You can have the rest," was Chunky's liberal