They arrived at Los Angeles somewhat behind their schedule, and did not leave there as soon as they expected to, as Professor Snodgrass wanted to call on a scientific friend, to learn something about the best place to hunt for horned toads.

“It’s all right, boys,” he announced, when he returned to the Los Angeles hotel, where the three chums had put up.  “My friend says the vicinity of San Felicity, where you are going to call on the Seaburys, is a grand place for horned toads.  Come, we will start at once.”

They found, however, that they would have to wait until the next day for a train.  They started early the following morning, traveling through a stretch of country where it seemed as if it was always summer.  Back home there had already been evidences of fall, before they left, but here there seemed to be no hint of approaching winter.

“Oh, isn’t this fine!” exclaimed Ned, breathing in the sweetly-scented air, as he stuck his head from the car window.  “It’s like reading about some fairy story!”

“It’s better than reading it,” said Jerry.  “It’s the real thing.”

They arrived at San Felicity, shortly before noon.  It was a very hot day, though the morning had been cool, and the boys began to appreciate the fact that they had come to a southern climate.  There seemed to be no one at the little railroad station, at which they were the only passengers to leave the train.  The train baggage man piled their trunks and valises in a heap on the platform, the engine gave a farewell toot, and the travelers were thus left alone, in what appeared a deserted locality.

“There doesn’t seem to be much doing,” observed Jerry.  “Let’s see now, Nellie wrote that we were to take a stage to get to their house, but I don’t see any stage.  Wonder where the station agent is?”

“Hark!” said the professor, raising his hand for silence.  “What noise is that?  It sounds as if it might be a horned toad grunting.  They make a noise just like that.”

“I would say it sounded more like some one snoring,” ventured Ned.

“It is!” exclaimed Bob.  “Here’s the station agent asleep in the ticket office,” and he looked in an open window, on the shady side of the platform.  From the interior came the sounds which indicated a person in deep slumber.

“Bless my soul!” exclaimed the professor.  “I took him for a horned toad!  I hope he didn’t hear me.”

“No danger,” remarked Jerry.  “He’s sound asleep.  Even the train didn’t wake him up.”

The four gazed in on the slumbering agent.  Perhaps there was some mysterious influence in the four pairs of eyes, for the man suddenly awakened with a start, stared for a moment at the travelers gazing in on him, and then sat up.

“Good day, señors!” he exclaimed, and they saw that he was a Mexican.  “Do you wish tickets?  If you do, I regret to inform you that the only train for the day has gone.  There will be none until to-morrow,” and he prepared to go to sleep again.