church.
"Where is everybody?" Nellie asked."In the mines or in their homes about now," Jeff said. "Which means underground.
Most of us live in dugouts here. They keep us cool during the day and warm at night.""Wow," Dan said. "This is really the Land Down Under."
"You've got it, mate! Population comes and goes-- it's about two thousand right now.
And we've got about forty-five different nationalities, everybody looking to strike it rich. We all get along pretty well, until somebody decides to blow something up. Maybe we should stop selling dynamite in the supermarket, eh?"
"He's kiddin g, right?" Nellie asked Shep.
"Afraid not."Jeff had slowed on the main drag but picked up speed on the outskirts of town. He roared along the dirt road with all the windows open.
At least they'd left the flies behind."Here we are!" he called suddenly.
They were in a desolate area. Hills surrounded them, and they could see the now-familiar pyramid shapes of opal mining.
"Which is ... where?" Nellie asked."Kangaroo Ken's place," Jeff said, grinning. "Don't believe a word he says, but he does know everything about Coober Pedy."With that dubious endorsement, he jumped out of the car and headed toward one of the hills. Now they could see a multicolored door set into the hillside.
As they drew closer, they saw that the door was decorated with countless flattened beer cans nailed to its surface.
"Interesting decor," Nellie said."You ain't seen nothing yet," Shep said."I can get you a mate's rate if you care to spend the night. Ken rents out rooms, too."
Jeff opened the door without knocking and shoved his head inside. "Cooo-eee!" he shouted. "You home? It's Jeff, mate! Got some folks who want to meet you!"
"No need to shout, just come on in before you let in all the blowies, you blooming twit!" a voice roared back.
Jeff winked at them. "Don't let him bother you.
He does the Aussie act for the tourists. He's a bit deaf, so speak up."They crowded inside and Nellie quickly shut the door. They were in a small hallway. Faint light came from the two small windows near the door.
There were hundreds of things tacked to the wall -- license plates, bumper stickers in every language, T-shirts, candy wrappers, postcards. The items were so numerous that they were nailed over each other and made a kind of crazy wallpaper. Where there was bare wall, people had scrawled signatures and messages.
"The house was built straight back into the hill, so we're underground right now," Jeff explained as they passed through a kitchen and dining area.
The rough walls curved around them. It was like being in a cave, except there was a stove, a refrigerator, a dining table, and a rug on the floor.They followed Jeff farther into the house, where he led them to a living room lit with lamps.
They'd expected to find themselves in some kind of a bunker, but instead they were in a regular room, with a brown couch, a coffee table, a shelf of books, and a TV. It took you a minute to realize the weird part -- there were no windows.
But after the blasting heat outside, the inside felt cool and comfortable.
An old man sat on the couch, reading a newspaper. He was tanned to the color of a walnut and completely bald. He, too, wore khaki shorts and a T-shirt that read DON'T ASK.
He looked over his half glasses at them.
"G'day, cobbers. I can see you bunch of galans made it to my shack okay, so pull up a pew and I'll fire up the barbie.""Stuff the lingo, Kenny," Jeff said. "They're here for a bit of history of Coober Pedy, not your Aussie act."
"You say this is your posse?" the man asked with a chortle.
"Knew you'd turn out to be no good." He slapped his knee."Aussie act," Jeff shouted. "Oh, never mind. These folks need some information." He raised his voice.
"Did you ever hear of a bloke called Bob Troppo?"
"We think he might have lived here in the 1930s," Amy said in a loud voice.
"He could have been a miner, but we're not sure about that. We're not sure of his name,
"Where is everybody?" Nellie asked."In the mines or in their homes about now," Jeff said. "Which means underground.
Most of us live in dugouts here. They keep us cool during the day and warm at night.""Wow," Dan said. "This is really the Land Down Under."
"You've got it, mate! Population comes and goes-- it's about two thousand right now.
And we've got about forty-five different nationalities, everybody looking to strike it rich. We all get along pretty well, until somebody decides to blow something up. Maybe we should stop selling dynamite in the supermarket, eh?"
"He's kiddin g, right?" Nellie asked Shep.
"Afraid not."Jeff had slowed on the main drag but picked up speed on the outskirts of town. He roared along the dirt road with all the windows open.
At least they'd left the flies behind."Here we are!" he called suddenly.
They were in a desolate area. Hills surrounded them, and they could see the now-familiar pyramid shapes of opal mining.
"Which is ... where?" Nellie asked."Kangaroo Ken's place," Jeff said, grinning. "Don't believe a word he says, but he does know everything about Coober Pedy."With that dubious endorsement, he jumped out of the car and headed toward one of the hills. Now they could see a multicolored door set into the hillside.
As they drew closer, they saw that the door was decorated with countless flattened beer cans nailed to its surface.
"Interesting decor," Nellie said."You ain't seen nothing yet," Shep said."I can get you a mate's rate if you care to spend the night. Ken rents out rooms, too."
Jeff opened the door without knocking and shoved his head inside. "Cooo-eee!" he shouted. "You home? It's Jeff, mate! Got some folks who want to meet you!"
"No need to shout, just come on in before you let in all the blowies, you blooming twit!" a voice roared back.
Jeff winked at them. "Don't let him bother you.
He does the Aussie act for the tourists. He's a bit deaf, so speak up."They crowded inside and Nellie quickly shut the door. They were in a small hallway. Faint light came from the two small windows near the door.
There were hundreds of things tacked to the wall -- license plates, bumper stickers in every language, T-shirts, candy wrappers, postcards. The items were so numerous that they were nailed over each other and made a kind of crazy wallpaper. Where there was bare wall, people had scrawled signatures and messages.
"The house was built straight back into the hill, so we're underground right now," Jeff explained as they passed through a kitchen and dining area.
The rough walls curved around them. It was like being in a cave, except there was a stove, a refrigerator, a dining table, and a rug on the floor.They followed Jeff farther into the house, where he led them to a living room lit with lamps.
They'd expected to find themselves in some kind of a bunker, but instead they were in a regular room, with a brown couch, a coffee table, a shelf of books, and a TV. It took you a minute to realize the weird part -- there were no windows.
But after the blasting heat outside, the inside felt cool and comfortable.
An old man sat on the couch, reading a newspaper. He was tanned to the color of a walnut and completely bald. He, too, wore khaki shorts and a T-shirt that read DON'T ASK.
He looked over his half glasses at them.
"G'day, cobbers. I can see you bunch of galans made it to my shack okay, so pull up a pew and I'll fire up the barbie.""Stuff the lingo, Kenny," Jeff said. "They're here for a bit of history of Coober Pedy, not your Aussie act."
"You say this is your posse?" the man asked with a chortle.
"Knew you'd turn out to be no good." He slapped his knee."Aussie act," Jeff shouted. "Oh, never mind. These folks need some information." He raised his voice.
"Did you ever hear of a bloke called Bob Troppo?"
"We think he might have lived here in the 1930s," Amy said in a loud voice.
"He could have been a miner, but we're not sure about that. We're not sure of his name,
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