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matter could be arranged?”
    â€œYup,” Bolts admitted. “They said to hunt for running water.”
    â€œWell, you’ll never find it standing here.”
    â€œThen lead on,” said Bolts, blinking unhappily at the blackness. “It’s your turn.”
    â€œOh, no. You’re the one with night vision. Besides, you got us into this pickle—so you should get us out.”

    â€œPshaw!” Bolts grumbled. “Who’s afraid of the dark?”
    He began moving cautiously forward, following his sniffer. There was bound to be water somewhere ahead, and if he followed his sniffer long enough, he couldn’t possibly miss it.
    Time passed. For Bolts, where every dark and uncertain minute seemed endless, it positively dragged. But up in the Space Jumper, time—which had been dawdling—suddenly began to speed up, and presently it was rushing along at a great rate. Soon there was so much excitement that poor Bolts was momentarily forgotten.
    The Mexican Air Patrol had not been overcome with enthusiasm when Commander Brown first called them on the radio. “Bandits, did you say?” purred the officer in charge. “And they’re after your dog? Dear me, Commander, you have my sympathy, but—”
    â€œI don’t want your sympathy!” bellowed the commander. “I want your help! I’m trying to tell you this is a very special dog—and these bandits are more than bandits. They are spies. They are working for the Mongolians. The ringleaders are Major Mangler and Comrade Pang. They—”
    â€œMajor Mangler!” exclaimed the officer. “Why didn’t you tell me that in the first place? There are rewards in nine countries for that rascal! Commander, what percentage of the reward money do you want?”
    â€œI don’t want any of it! Just get here fast, and you can capture the whole gang.”
    â€œComing— ¡muy pronto !”
    So it was that a swarm of helicopters loaded with guardsmen suddenly appeared over the mountains. As they landed in the valley, Bingo, eyes popping, eased the Space Jumper lower for a better look. There was a great to-do below, with men rushing this way and that, falling in tangles, scrambling out of tangles, and raising clouds of dust through which horses and dogs raced madly.
    The dust was just clearing a bit when Bingo was startled to hear Bolts on the radio. “We’ve found flowing water, Bingo—but I still don’t see no way out.”
    â€œWhich way is it flowing?” Bingo asked.
    â€œAw, how would I know? What’s the diff? It’s all the same down here.”
    â€œIt makes a lot of difference!” Bingo cried. “If you’ll tell us the direction, we’ll head that way in the Space Jumper and search for an outlet. The Air Patrol has come and they’ve captured that gang. Now we can land safely and hunt for you.”
    â€œThat’s great news, Bingo—but I’m kinda shy on directions. The sun ain’t exactly shining down here.”
    â€œBolts, you’ve got a built-in compass! Use it!”
    There was a silence, then Bolts muttered, “By Joe, I wondered what that little gadget was that kept jiggling in me. Bingo, this water winds about, but it seems to be flowing mainly northwest.”
    â€œB-but that would take us way over on the other side of the mountain! You must be wrong.”
    â€œNope. My gadget says northwest, Bingo.”
    â€œThen you’ll just have to keep going. We’ll cross over and see what we can find.”
    While Bolts plodded on in the darkness, Bingo’s fingers flew over the control buttons, and the Space Jumper rose and sped to the opposite side of the mountain.
    Big Butch, on watch at a port, suddenly pointed and said, “Look at that deep canyon! There’s a stream in the bottom of it. D’you suppose it’s the one Bolts is following?”
    â€œWe’d better