“Any old time, it takes Tammany Hall, and Fourteenth street, and a fire-escape on a rock, to make Jimmie remember that he’s hungry!” laughed Carl. “Well, if you’re hungry,” Ben suggested, “why don’t you go on and get supper? You’re the cook to-day, anyway.” “Is it safe to build a fire?” asked Carl. Ben shook his head and pointed to the walls on either side. “The flame might not be seen,” he said, “but the reflection might, so I presume we’d better do our cooking on the alcohol stove.” “Jerusalem!” exclaimed Jimmie. “I don’t want any cafeteria, Y. M. C. A., luncheon to-night. I want to get out about a dozen cans of beans, and tinned roast beef, and four or five pounds of ham, and a couple dozen eggs, and have a square meal. We’ve been sailing over the country for five or six days now eating wind sandwiches and drinking brook water.” “Perhaps,” Carl observed pointing to the openings to the east, “we can find a place in there where a fire may safely be built.” “Where’s your wood?” asked Ben. “There’s always driftwood in a place like this,” Jimmie asserted. “There’s always trees falling down from the timber line and rotting in the canyons. I’ll find wood, all right, if we can find a place where it’s safe to build a fire,” he added with a chuckle of delight at the thought of a large meal. “What I need right now is plenty of sustenance!” “Go to it!” laughed Ben. “Mr. Havens advised us to camp out in some spot about like this, and make excursions over the mountains in search of Phillips and Mendosa, so I don’t see why we’ll have to move our camp at all. Therefore, a neat little kitchen won’t come amiss.” Jimmie started for the cliff with a chuckle. For some minutes his flashlight was seen dodging in and out of the water-worn caverns, and then it disappeared entirely. Carl, who was gathering driftwood, paused at Ben’s side and pointed toward the spot where Jimmie’s light had last been seen. His face was a trifle anxious as he said: “You don’t suppose he’s gone and got into trouble, do you?” “My guess is that he has found a deep cavern,” said Ben. “I hope so,” Carl answered. “Say!” the boy went on, in a moment, “your speaking of Mr. Havens just now reminded me of the fact that he hasn’t communicated with us in any way since we started. I’m getting worried about that man! He might have overtaken us by fast train if he had seen fit to do so, but he didn’t.” “I don’t see how he could have communicated with us in any way,” replied Ben. “We have never left an address, and always his people at the hangar declared in answer to our messages that he had not been heard from since the night he had so mysteriously left the stateroom of the Pullman car. They’re getting anxious about him in New York.”