A VIEW OF THE PROMISED LAND


For nearly three days the Pony Rider Boys had been taking their ease
in a Pullman sleeping car, making great inroads on the food served in
the dining car.

It had been a happy journey. The boys were full of anticipation of
what was before them. At intervals during the day they would study
their maps and enter into long discussions with Professor Zepplin,
the grizzled, stern-looking man who in so many other journeys had
been their guardian and faithful companion. The Professor had joined
them at St. Louis, where the real journey had commenced.

All that day they had been racing over baked deserts, a cloud of dust
sifting into the car and making life miserable for the more tender
passengers, though the hardy Pony Riders gave no heed to such trivial
discomforts as heat and dust. They were used to that sort of thing.
Furthermore, they expected, ere many more days had passed, to be treated
to discomforts that were real.

Suddenly the train dashed from the baked desert into a green forest.
The temperature seemed to drop several degrees in an instant. Everyone
drew a long breath, faces were pressed against windows and expressions
of delight were heard in many parts of the sleeper.

They had entered a forest of tall pines, so tall that the lads were
obliged to crane their necks to see the tops.

"This is the beginning of the beginning," announced Professor Zepplin