“HURRAH!” burst out Joe, overwhelmed with delight. “We’ll get ahead of those crooks after all.”

“When did you find out?” asked Mr. Holton, as overjoyed as the youth.

“Late this afternoon,” was the response. “We intended to make frequent trips to the railroad station in order to know as soon as possible. The agent there informed us that the track had been cleared last night and the locomotive repaired this morning. He didn’t give the impression that there are other trains on this route, but I suppose there are.”

“That’s fine!” exclaimed Mr. Lewis, as excited as a boy. “We’ll get a meal at once and then complete preparations for the journey. Have you two eaten?”

“Yes,” returned Fekmah. “It is getting late. Six, seven o’clock.”

The naturalists and their sons made their way to the cafÉ and did full justice to a delicious meal. Then they went back to their room and finished packing their possessions.

“Do you know,” remarked Joe that night just before retiring, “we were, in a sense, responsible for that train wreck?”

Bob looked up in surprise.

“If it hadn’t been for our proposed expedition, those two Arabs would have had no cause to wreck the train,” Joe explained.

“Oh. Indirectly, huh? Well, you’re right.”

Very early the next morning the explorers were up making last-minute preparations. The train was to leave for Wargla at eight o’clock, giving them three hours or so to use to best advantage.

“When do we reach our destination?” asked Bob, as he snapped the catch on his handbag.

“At about noon day after tomorrow,” answered Dr. Kirshner. “You see, it’s a three-hundred-and-seventy-five-mile journey, and the train won’t go any too fast through the mountains.”

“Mountains? Do we go through mountains?” queried Joe, a little surprised.

“Yes, twice. Through these around here and then in the more lofty Aures. And the scenery is said to be wonderful.”

“What cities do we pass through?” Bob asked.

“Setif, Batna, Biskra, and Tuggourt are the principal ones,” the archÆologist replied. “But there are a number of smaller towns. Get a map. There’s one in the pocket of that bag over there.”

The boys took out the guide to Algeria and studied it closely. They found that the railroad did not make a straight run but curved considerably in order to pass through several important cities and towns. The map was not strictly up to date and consequently did not show the new stretch from Tuggourt to Wargla.

“It’s been constructed only recently,” explained Mr. Lewis. “At present the French have proposed building a trans-Sahara route. When they will begin it, if ever, we don’t know.”

“Perhaps not in our lifetimes,” smiled Joe. “Large enterprises like that come very slowly.”

An hour before train time everything was in readiness, and it was Mr. Holton who suggested that they go down to the railroad station.

The others were in favor of doing so, and as it was but a short distance away they were content to walk and carry their belongings. There was a good-sized load, but it was distributed evenly without anyone being overtaxed.

At the station they checked the things securely and safely. Even then they had a leisure half-hour.

“You may be surprised at sight of the train,” said Fekmah.

And they were. The Americans had expected to see rickety wood coaches attached to an incapable locomotive, but instead they saw a large, fine train of the French design.

“All due to the influence of France, I suppose,” remarked Dr. Kirshner, as he followed the others up in the coach.

A few minutes later they felt a slight jerk and the train began moving slowly away from the station. Gradually it picked up speed, and before long Algiers disappeared on the horizon.

“We’re off!” said Joe enthusiastically. “Before long we’ll see the great Sahara Desert!”

It required but a few minutes to reach Maison CarrÉe, and after a short stop they began the journey in earnest. Rapidly they passed through cultivated fields, orange groves, and vineyards, heading for the mountains. Small farmhouses were left behind, their owners laboring in the fields. Villages inhabited largely by whites were passed, and occasionally a five-horse cart loaded with swarthy Arabs could be seen winding slowly along the shaded roads.

Finally they came to the Djurdjura Mountains, after having passed through the dense forest of La Reghaia. Through numerous tunnels and around scenic gorges they went, and finally came to Palestro, a small town on the banks of the Isser River. Here the train stopped for a few brief minutes.

Again it took up the journey, speeding through the beautiful mountain gorges. In the narrow valleys farmers could be seen laboring with primitive implements. The next stop was Beni-Mansour, where the railroad branched.

Still on they went, the mountainous country gradually growing wilder and more beautiful. Occasionally they found themselves in a narrow gulch between high walls of rock, and a curious sensation of being hemmed in crept over them.

After passing through a long tunnel, the train sped out on a barren plain, with little vegetation and few or no people. Another stop was at Setif, a modern city populated by Americans and Europeans as well as natives.

Resuming the journey, they passed over another great stretch of level country, and then finally a mountain range could be seen in the distance. But just when the explorers were anticipating the change of scenery, the train pulled into El Guerrah and stopped.

“Here we must get off,” announced Fekmah, getting his belongings together. “We must change trains for Biskra. This one goes on.”

The explorers lugged their belongings out on the platform and into the station.

Darkness was fast approaching, and as it would be necessary to remain in El Guerrah overnight, the adventurers stepped into the hotel, which was the only structure in sight.

“The town is some distance away,” declared Fekmah. “We not have time to see it.”

At the hotel they engaged rooms and lost no time in getting to them. Sleepiness was rapidly overpowering them, and they went to bed at once.

The next morning they awaited the train to take them on the remainder of the journey. At eight o’clock it was there, and the explorers climbed aboard, eager to get started on the last stretch.

“What’s the next stop?” asked Bob, as he stretched out on the comfortable seat.

“Batna,” his father returned. “Quite a prosperous place, I guess. And it is the starting point for tourist excursions to several Roman cities that are of considerable interest historically.”

Inside of an hour that city was reached. A short stop and then they were off for Biskra, at the very edge of the Sahara.

“We are now three thousand five hundred feet above the level of the sea,” declared Fekmah, as the train sped over the last few miles of level country.

Soon they came to the Aures Mountains, and between high walls of rock they sped. At last the short range of peaks was passed, and they found themselves once more on comparatively level ground.

Suddenly Fekmah pointed to a high ridge of rock:

“The Sahara Desert!” he exclaimed. “We have come to it at last.”