"That's right," spoke old Andy. "Many a time in the woods I've got all confused-like, and then I'd sit down and think, and I'd get on the right path in a few minutes after." "The trouble here is," said Jack, "that there are no woods. If there were we might know how to get out of them. But think of it! Lost on the moon, in the midst of a whole lot of queer mountain peaks, and big holes that would hold half a dozen cities of the United States at the same time, and never know it! This is a fearful place to be lost in!" "I'm not going to admit that we're lost," declared Mark stoutly. "Hu! You're like the Indian," spoke Jack. "The Indian who got lost in the woods. He insisted that it wasn't he who was lost, that it was his wigwam that couldn't be found. He knew where he himself was all the while. That's our case, I suppose. We're here, but the projectile is lost." "Ha! ha!" laughed Andy Sudds. "That's a pretty good joke!" "But not being able to find the projectile is no joke," went on Mark, who always took matters more seriously than did his chum. "What are we going to do?" he added. "We can't stay here like this." "Maybe we'll have to," declared Jack. "We certainly can't get off the moon--at least, not until we reach the projectile, and I'd like to discover those diamonds before we go back." "Hu! Those diamonds!" exploded Mark. "I think this whole thing is a wild-goose chase, anyhow! If it hadn't been for those diamonds we wouldn't have come to the moon. I don't believe there are any diamonds here, anyhow." "Well, I can't prove it to you now, but I will before we get back," asserted Jack. "We'll be wearing diamonds, as the song says." "Diamonds aren't going to keep us warm when we're freezing," went on Mark, who seemed bound to look on the dark side, "and we can't eat 'em when we're hungry. A lot of good they'll do us if we do find them!" "Oh, cheer up!" suggested Jack cheerfully. "And, speaking of eating, what's the matter with having some lunch? What did we bring it along for if we're not going to eat? Let's begin." His good spirits were contagious, not that Andy needed any special cheering up, but Mark did. In a few minutes they were seated on some rugged rocks, and, with their life-torches stuck in cracks, so that the perforated metal boxes of chemicals would be on a level with their faces, they opened the baskets they had been fore-sighted enough to bring with them. "Why, I feel better already," asserted Jack, as he munched some sandwiches which Washington White had made. "As soon as we've finished we'll have another hunt for the projectile, and I'll wager that we'll find it." "I wouldn't finish if I were you," suggested Andy, who was eating sparingly. "Finish what?" asked Jack.