ntered.

"What's the matter with you, Greaser?" cried the Kid angrily. "What
you doin' in here, anyhow?"

"Well, Kid, if you don't recognize me I guess I'm safe!" chuckled Nort.

"Nort!" shouted the Yellin' Kid. "What the----"

"Not so loud!" cautioned Nort, laughing. "How do you like my
disguise?" he asked. And then, changing his voice to a whine, he
begged in slangy Spanish for a cigaret (which, of course, he did not
smoke) though he muttered his "thanks, _Senor_," in a manner that
caused Yellin' Kid to exclaim:

"They'll never find you out! Good luck to you!"

"_Adios_," laughed Nort.

CHAPTER XXIV

THE BRONTOTHERIUM

There were busy times in the camp of Professor Wright, who was
searching for the fossil bones of a once living Brontotherium. The
scientist felt sure he was on the right track, though one of his
college assistants was openly skeptical.

"This isn't the right rock formation at all, to dig for a
Brontotherium," he declared.

"So some of my helpers held the time I discovered the other gigantic
fossil bones," retorted the professor. "But I proved that I was right.
We shall yet find a Brontotherium--or what is left of one--you'll see!"

Bud and Dick found time to stroll, occasionally, over to the camp of
the scientist, for there was much to interest them there, and they
wanted to be on hand when the "great discovery," as Professor Wright
referred to it, should be made.

"Do you know," remarked Bud, as he and his chum were riding over to the
scene of excavating operations one day, "there's something quite
satisfying in going over among so much scientific knowledge."

"Particularly when we don't have to absorb any of it ourselves, under
compulsion," remarked Dick with a chuckle. "It's like visiting a
school and watching the other fellows boning away."

"Yes," agreed Bud. "We don't have to open a book nor learn a lot of
names as long as your arm. I wonder why they gave such long names to
these prehistoric monsters, anyhow?"

"Give it up," spoke Dick shortly. "There must be a reason."

"I reckon there is, but why in the name of Tunket couldn't they call
'em something shorter? Wouldn't it sound funny if we had to call a
horse a Brontosaurus?"

"I'd teach mine to come without calling if it had a name like that!"
chuckled Dick. "But say, Bud, while we're over there--in the camp I
mean," and he pointed to it among the distant hills, "don't mention
Nort's name."

"No, dad