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Title: The Pony Rider Boys in New Mexico

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</pre>

<h1>The Pony Rider Boys in New Mexico</h1>

<h4>or</h4>

<h4>The End of the Silver Trail</h4>

<h2>by Frank Gee Patchin, 1910</h2>

<hr>
<h3>CHAPTER I</h3>

<h4>SOMETHING IN THE WIND</h4>

<p>"What was that?"</p>

<p>"Only one of the boys in the seat behind us, snoring."</p>

<p>"Sure they're asleep?"</p>

<p>"Yes, but what if they're not? They are only kids. They
wouldn't understand."</p>

<p>"Don't you be too sure about that. I've heard about those
kids. Heard about 'em over in Nevada. There's four of them. They
call themselves the Pony Rider Boys; and they're no tenderfeet,
if all I hear is true. They have done some pretty lively
stunts."</p>

<p>"Yes, that's all right, Bob, but we ain't going to begin by
getting cold feet over a bunch of kids out for a holiday."</p>

<p>"Where they going?"</p>

<p>"Don't know. Presume they'll be taking a trip over the plains
or heading for the mountains. They've got a stock car up ahead
jammed full of stock and equipment."</p>

<p>"Scarecrows?"</p>

<p>"No. Good stock. Some of the slickest ponies you ever set eyes
on. There's one roan there that I wouldn't mind owning. Maybe we
can make a trade," and the speaker chuckled softly to
himself.</p>

<p>A snore louder than those that had preceded it, caused the two
men to laugh heartily.</p>

<p>The snore had come from Stacy Brown. Both he and Tad Butler
were resting from their long journey on the Atlantic and Pacific
train. Further to the rear of the car, their companions, Ned
Rector and Walter Perkins, also were curled up in a double seat,
with Professor Zepplin sitting very straight as if sleep were
furthest from his thoughts. They were nearing their destination
now, and within the hour would be unloading their stock and
equipment at Bluewater.</p>

<p>"They're asleep all right," grinned one of the two men who
occupied the seat just ahead of Stacy and Tad. "Is old man
Marquand going to meet us at the station?"</p>

<p>"Oh, no. That wouldn't be a good thing. Might attract too much
attention. Told him not to. We'll get a couple of ponies at
Bluewater and ride across the mountains. But we've got to be
slick. The old man is no fool. He'll hang on to the location of
the treasure till the last old cat's gone to sleep for good."</p>

<p>"Any idea where the place is?"</p>

<p>"No. Except that it's somewhere south of the Zuni range."</p>

<p>A solitary eye in the seat behind, opened cautiously. The eye
belonged to Stacy Brown. The last snore had awakened him, and he
had lain with closed eyes listening to the conversation of the
two men.</p>

<p>He gave Tad a gentle nudge, which was returned with a soft
pressure on Stacy's right arm as a warning that he was to remain
quiet.</p>

<p>"Do you know what the treasure consists of?"</p>

<p>"Maybe a mine, but as near as I could draw from Marquand's
talk it is jewels and Spanish money which one of the old
Franciscan monks had buried. The Pueblos knew where it was, but
they sealed the place up after the Pueblo revolution in 1680, and
it's been corked tight ever since."</p>

<p>"How'd Marquand get wise to it?"</p>

<p>"From an old Pueblo Chief whose life he saved a few months
ago. The old chief died a little while afterwards, but before he
went, he told Marquand about the treasure."</p>

<p>"Didn't suppose a redskin had so much gratitude under his
tough skin. Does the old man know where the place is?"</p>

<p>"No, not exactly. That's where we come in," grinned the
speaker. "We are going to help him find it."</p>

<p>"And then?"</p>

<p>"Oh, well. There's lots of ways to get rid of him."</p>

<p>"You mean?"</p>

<p>"He might tumble off into a canyon, or something of the sort,
in the night time. Here's the place."</p>

<p>The train was rounding a bend into the little town of
Bluewater.</p>

<p>"Sit still," whispered Tad. "I want to get a look at those
fellows so I'll know them next time I see them."</p>

<p>The Pony Rider boy left his seat, and hurrying to the forward
end of the car, helped himself to a drink of water from the tank;
then slowly retraced his steps.</p>

<p>As he walked down the car, he took in the two men in one
swift, comprehensive glance, then swung his hands to his
companions at the other end of the car, as a signal that they
were arriving at their destination.</p>

<p>"Know 'em?" whispered Stacy as Tad began pulling his baggage
from the rack.</p>

<p>"Never saw either before. Better get your stuff together. This
train is fast only when it stops. It drags along over the
country, but when it gets into a station it's always in a hurry
to get away," laughed Tad.</p>

<p>A few minutes later the party of bronzed young men sprang from
the car to the station platform, where they instantly became the
center of a throng of curious villagers.</p>

<p>Readers of the preceding volumes of this series are already
too well acquainted with the Pony Rider Boys to need a formal
introduction. As told in "THE PONY RIDER BOYS IN THE ROCKIES,"
the lads had set out from their homes in Missouri for a summer's
vacation in the saddle. That first volume detailed how the lads
penetrated the fastnesses of the Rockies, hunted big game and how
they finally discovered the Lost Claim, which they won after
fighting a battle with the mountaineers, thus earning for
themselves quite a fortune.</p>

<p>In "THE PONY RIDER BOYS IN TEXAS," the boys were again seen to
advantage. There they joined in a cattle drive across the state
as cowboys. They played an exciting part in the rough life of the
cowmen, meeting with many stirring adventures. It will be
remembered how, in this story, Tad Butler saved a large part of
the herd, besides performing numerous heroic deeds, including the
saving of the life of a member of the party from a swollen river.
At the end of their journey, they solved a deep mystery&mdash;a
mystery that had perplexed and worried the cattle men, besides
causing them heavy financial loss.</p>

<p>In "THE PONY RIDER BOYS IN MONTANA," the scene shifted to the
old Custer Trail, the battle ground of one of the most tragic
events in American history. The story described how Tad Butler
overheard a plot to stampede and kill a flock of many thousand
sheep; how after experiencing many hardships, he finally carried
the news to the owner of the herd; then later, participated in
the battle between the cowmen and sheep herders, in which the
latter emerged victorious.</p>

<p>It will be recalled too, how the Pony Rider Boy was captured
by the Blackfeet Indians and taken to their mountain retreat,
where with a young companion he was held until they made their
escape with the assistance of an Indian maiden; how they were
pursued by the savages, the bullets from whose rifles singing
over the heads of the lads as they headed for a river into which
they plunged, thus effectually throwing off the savage pursuers;
and finally, how in time they made their way back to the camp of
the Pony Riders, having solved the mystery of the old Custer
Trail.</p>

<p>After these exciting adventures, the lads concluded to cut
short their Montana trip and go on to the next stage of their
journeyings, which was destined to be even more stirring than any
that had preceded it. How Tad Butler and Stacy Brown proved
themselves to be real heroes, was told in "THE PONY RIDER BOYS IN
THE OZARKS."</p>

<p>For a long time, an organized band of thieves had been
stealing stock in the Ozark range, baffling all efforts to
apprehend them. The boys had been warned to guard their own stock
carefully, but despite this, their ponies were stolen from camp,
one by one and in a most mysterious manner, until not an animal
was left. Then, one by one, the Pony Rider Boys became lost until
only Tad and Stacy remained. They were facing starvation, and it
will be recalled how Tad Butler made a plucky trip to the nearest
mining camp for assistance. There the boys were imprisoned
underground by a mine explosion; escaping from which, they met
with perils every bit as grave, and from which they were
eventually rescued by Stacy himself.</p>

<p>Through the disaster, the lads solved the Secret of the Ruby
Mountain, thus putting an end for good to the wholesale thieving
in the Ozark range.</p>

<p>Though the Pony Rider Boys had suffered many hardships in
their journeyings, those that lay before them were destined to
try them even more. In "THE PONY RIDER BOYS IN THE ALKALI," they
faced the perils of the baking alkali desert. It will be recalled
how they fought desperately for water when all the usual sources
of supply were found to have run dry; how Tad and Stacy Brown
were captured by a desert hermit and thrown into a cave; how,
after their escape, they were lost in the Desert Maze, and how
after many hardships, they finally succeeded in making their way
to camp, dragging behind them a wild coyote that Tad had roped
when the boys were beset by the wild beasts in the dead of
night.</p>

<p>Nothing daunted by their trying experiences the Pony Rider
Boys set out on the concluding trip of the season&mdash;a journey
over the historic plains and mountains of New Mexico. After a
long railroad ride, they had finally arrived at the town of
Bluewater, from which they were to begin their explorations in
the southwest.</p>

<p>A guide was to meet and conduct them across the mountains of
the Zuni range and so on to the southern borders of the
state.</p>

<p>By the time they reached the platform of the station, the
stock car had been uncoupled and was being shifted to a side
track where they might unload their belongings at their
leisure.</p>

<p>"I wonder where that guide is," said Tad.</p>

<p>"He was told to be here," answered the Professor.</p>

<p>"Never mind; we can unload better without him," averred Ned,
starting off at a brisk trot for their car which had been shunted
alongside the platform at the rear of the station.</p>

<p>With joyous anticipation of the new scenes and experiences
that lay before them, the lads set briskly to work, and within an
hour had all the stock and equipment removed from the car.</p>

<p>There was quite an imposing collection, with their ponies,
their burros, tents and other equipment, the latter lying strewn
all over the open level space beyond the station.</p>

<p>"Looks as if a circus had just come to town," laughed
Walter.</p>

<p>"We've got a side show, anyway," retorted Ned.</p>

<p>"What's our side show?"</p>

<p>"Chunky's that."</p>

<p>"No; he's the clown. The rest of us are the animals, only
we're not in cages."</p>

<p>"Hey, fellows, see that funny Mexican on the burro there,"
laughed Chunky. "Guess he never saw an outfit like ours
before."</p>

<p>The lads could not repress a laugh as they glanced at the
figure pointed out by Stacy.</p>

<p>The man was sitting on the burro, his feet extended on the
ground before him, hands thrust deep into trousers pockets. He
was observing the work of the boys curiously. The fellow's high,
conical head was crowned by a peaked Mexican hat, much the worse
for wear, while his coarse, black hair was combed straight down
over a pair of small, piercing, dark eyes. The complexion, or
such of it as was visible through the mask of wiry hair, was
swarthy, his form thin and insignificant.</p>

<p>Stacy Brown strode over to him somewhat pompously.</p>

<p>"You speak English?" questioned the boy.</p>

<p>"Si, se&ntilde;or."</p>

<p>The Mexican's lips curled back, revealing two rows of
gleaming, white teeth.</p>

<p>"I'm glad to hear it. I didn't think you could. We are looking
for a guide who was to have met us here to conduct us over the
mountains. His name is Juan. It'll be something else when he does
show up. Do you know him?"</p>

<p>"Si, se&ntilde;or."</p>

<p>"Isn't he coming to meet us?"</p>

<p>"Si, se&ntilde;or."</p>

<p>"Well, I must say he's taking his time about getting here.
Where is he?"</p>

<p>"Juan here, se&ntilde;or."</p>

<p>"Here? I don't see him," answered the lad, looking about the
place.</p>

<p>"Me Juan," grinned the Mexican. "You?"</p>

<p>"Never mind the se&ntilde;or. I'll take for granted I'm a
se&ntilde;or, or whatever else you think. Say, fellows, come
here," commanded Stacy.</p>

<p>"Well, what's the matter?" demanded Ned, approaching, followed
by the other boys.</p>

<p>"This is it," announced Stacy, with a wave of his hand toward
the Mexican.</p>

<p>"What is it?" sniffed Ned.</p>

<p>"This."</p>

<p>"Chunky, what are you getting at?" questioned Walter.</p>

<p>"Perhaps this gentleman will know where we may find our
guide," interrupted the Professor, coming up. "Se&ntilde;or, do
you know one Juan&mdash;"</p>

<p>"Yes, he knows him," grinned Stacy. "He's very well acquainted
with the gentleman."</p>

<p>"Then where may we find this Juan</p>

<p>"That's Juan&mdash;that's your guide," Stacy informed the
Professor.</p>

<p>"You&mdash;are you the guide?"</p>

<p>"Si, se&ntilde;or."</p>

<p>The Professor opened his eyes in amazement. The burro, on the
other hand, stood with nose to the ground sound asleep, oblivious
to all that was taking place about him.</p>

<p>"Why didn't you make yourself known&mdash;why haven't you
helped us to unload?" demanded the Professor in an irritated
tone.</p>

<p>"Me no <i>peon</i>. Me guide."</p>

<p>"He's a guide," explained Stacy. "Guides don't work, you know,
Professor. They are just ornaments. He and the burro are going to
pose for our amusement."</p>

<p>The boys laughed heartily. Professor Zepplin uttered an
exclamation of impatience.</p>

<p>"Sir, if you are going with this outfit you will be expected
to do your share of the labor. There are no drones in our
hive."</p>

<p>"No; we all work," interposed Stacy.</p>

<p>"And some of us are eaters," added Ned.</p>

<p>Juan shrugged his shoulders and showed his pearly teeth.</p>

<p>At the Professor's command, however, Juan stepped off the
burro without in the least disturbing that animal's dreams and
lazily began collecting the baggage as directed by the Professor.
After the equipment had been sorted into piles, the boys did it
up into neat packs which they skillfully strapped to the backs of
the burros of their pack train. Juan, lost in contemplation of
their labors, forgot his own duties until reminded of them by
Stacy, who gave the guide a violent poke in the ribs with his
thumb.</p>

<p>Juan started; then, with a sheepish grin, became busy
again.</p>

<p>It was no small task to get their belongings in packs
preparatory to the journey; but late in the afternoon the boys
had completed their task. They had had nothing to eat since early
morning. But they were too anxious to be on their way to wait for
dinner in town.</p>

<p>After making some necessary purchases in the village, the
procession finally started away across the plain.</p>

<p>"You'll never get anywhere with that sleepy burro, Juan,"
decided the Professor, with a shake of the head.</p>

<p>"Him go fast," grinned the Mexican.</p>

<p>"So can a crab on dry land," jeered Ned.</p>

<p>Just then the guide utter a series of shrill "yi-yi's,"
whereupon the lads were treated to an exhibition such as they
never had seen before.</p>

<p>The sleepy burro projected his head straight out before him,
while his tail, raised to a level with his back, stuck straight
out behind him. The burro, seemingly imbued with sudden life, was
off at a pace faster than a man could run.</p>

<p>It was most astonishing. The boys gazed in amazement; then
burst out in a chorus of approving yells.</p>

<p>But it was the rider, even more than the burro, that excited
their mirth. His long legs were working like those of a jumping
jack, and though astride of the burro, Juan was walking at a
lively pace. It reminded one of the way men propelled the
old-fashioned velocipedes years before.</p>

<p>A cloud of dust rose behind the odd outfit as the party drew
out on the plains. Their ponies were started at a gallop, which
was necessary to enable them to keep up with the pace that Juan
had set.</p>

<p>"Here! Here!" shouted the Professor.</p>

<p>Juan never looked back.</p>

<p>"We're leaving the pack train. Slow down!"</p>

<p>Laughingly the lads pulled their ponies down to a walk; then
halted entirely to enable the burros to catch up with them. By
this time the pack animals had become so familiar with their work
that little attention was necessary on the part of the boys. Now
and then one more sleepy than the rest would go to sleep and
pause to doze a few minutes on the trail. This always
necessitated all hands stopping to wait until the sleeper could
be rounded up and driven up to the bunch.</p>

<p>Juan had disappeared. They were discussing the advisability of
sending one of the boys out after him when he was seen returning.
But at what a different gait! His burro was dragging itself along
with its head close to the ground, while Juan himself was slouching on its
back half asleep.</p>

<p>"You must have a motor inside that beast," grinned Tad.</p>

<p>"Him go some, se&ntilde;or?"</p>

<p>"Him do," answered Stacy, his solemn eyes taking in the sleepy
burro wonderingly.</p>

<p>"Better not waste your energy performing," advised the
Professor. "We shall need what little you have. We will make camp
here, as I see there is a spring near by. Help the boys unpack
the burros."</p>

<p>"Si, se&ntilde;or," answered the guide, standing erect and
permitting his burro to walk from under him.</p>

<p>With shouts and songs the lads, in great good humor, went to
work at once, pitching their camp for the first time on the
plains of New Mexico. There was much to be done, and twilight was
upon them before they had advanced far enough to begin cooking
their evening meal.</p>

<h3>CHAPTER II</h3>

<h4>IN THE ZUNI FOOTHILLS</h4>

<p>A sudden wail from the guide attracted the attention of the
party to him at once. "Now what's the matter?" demanded Tad,
hurrying to him.</p>

<p>The guide had thrown himself prone upon the ground and was
groaning as if in great agony, offering no reply to the
question.</p>

<p>"Are you sick?"</p>

<p>"Si, si, se&ntilde;or," moaned Juan.</p>

<p>"Where?"</p>

<p>"Estomago&mdash;mucho malo."</p>

<p>"Your stomach?"</p>

<p>"He's got a pain under his apron," diagnosed Stacy
solemnly.</p>

<p>"Been working too hard," suggested Ned.</p>

<p>In the meantime the guide was rolling and twisting on the
ground, glancing appealingly from one to the other of them.</p>

<p>"Professor, hadn't you better fetch your medicine case and
dose him up?" asked Tad.</p>

<p>"Yes, I'll attend to him."</p>

<p>"Give him a good dose while you are about it," urged Ned.
"Something that will cure his laziness at the same time."</p>

<p>The Professor brought his case; then, remembering something
else in his kit that he wanted, he laid the case down and hurried
back to his tent. However, Stacy opened the case, selecting a
bottle, apparently at random, drew the cork and held the bottle
under Juan's nose.</p>

<p>"Smell of this, my son. It'll cure your estomago on the
run."</p>

<p>"Be careful, Chunky, what are you doing there?" warned Tad.
"You shouldn't fool with the medicines. You&mdash;"</p>

<p>His further remarks were cut short by a sudden yell of terror
and pain from Juan.</p>

<p>The guide leaped to his feet choking, gasping, while the tears
ran down his cheeks as he danced about as if suddenly bereft of
his senses.</p>

<p>"Now you've gone and done it," growled Ned. "He never moved so
fast in his life, I'll wager."</p>

<p>Juan was running in a circle now, shrieking and moaning.
Professor Zepplin approached them in a series of leaps. He could
not imagine what new disaster had overtaken the lazy Mexican.</p>

<p>"Here, here, here, what's the trouble now?" He demanded
sternly. "Stop that howling!"</p>

<p>"Chunky's been prescribing for your patient in your absence,"
Ned informed him.</p>

<p>The Professor grabbed the wild guide by the collar, giving him
a vigorous shake. When he released his grip, Juan sank to the
ground in a heap, moaning weakly.</p>

<p>"What's that you say? Stacy prescribed&mdash;"</p>

<p>"I&mdash;I let him smell of the bottle," explained Stacy
guiltily.</p>

<p>"What bottle?"</p>

<p>Stacy slowly picked up the offending bottle and handed it to
the Professor.</p>

<p>"Ammonia! Boy, you might have put his eyes out! Never let this
occur again. Remember, you are not to touch the medicines under
any circumstances whatever!"</p>

<p>"Yes, sir," agreed Chunky meekly, while Ned Rector strolled
away, shaking with laughter.</p>

<p>"Drink," begged the patient.</p>

<p>"Fetch him some water," directed Professor Zepplin.</p>

<p>"No, no, no, se&ntilde;or," protested Juan, gesticulating
protestingly.</p>

<p>"What do you want?"</p>

<p>"Guess he wants something stronger than water," suggested
Ned.</p>

<p>"Si, si, si," agreed the guide, showing his white teeth in an
approving grin.</p>

<p>"You won't get anything stronger than that in this outfit,
unless you cook yourself some coffee," muttered Tad.</p>

<p>"That's what's the matter with him," decided Chunky, who had
been observing the sick man keenly.</p>

<p>"Guess we drew a prize when we got Juan," announced
Walter.</p>

<p>"Give him some medicine, anyway," urged Ned. "He is sick&mdash;
let him take the dose."</p>

<p>"Let him have the worst you've got in your case, Professor,"
added Tad, with a laugh.</p>

<p>A grim smile played about the corners of Professor Zepplin's
mouth as he ran his fingers over the bottles in his medicine
case. Finally, selecting one that seemed to fit the particular
ailment of his patient, he directed Chunky to fetch a spoon.</p>

<p>By this time Juan was protesting volubly that he was "all
better" and did not need the medicine. The Professor gave no heed
to the fellow's protestations.</p>

<p>"Open your mouth," he commanded.</p>

<p>Juan shut his teeth tightly together.</p>

<p>"Open your mouth!" commanded the Professor sternly. "We want
no sick men about this camp. It will fix you in a minute."</p>

<p>But the guide steadfastly refused to separate the white
teeth.</p>

<p>"Boys, open his mouth while I pour the medicine down him,"
gritted the Professor.</p>

<p>They required no urging to do the Professor's bidding. Tad and
Ned ranged themselves on either side of the patient, while Chunky
sat on the guide's feet. Almost before he was aware of their
purpose the boys had pried his jaws open and into the opening
thus made professor Zepplin dropped the concoction he had
mixed.</p>

<p>The effect was electrical. Juan leaped to his feet as if
elevated by springs, uttering a yell that might have been heard a
mile or more on the open plain. But Juan did not run in a circle
this time. Acting upon the mathematical theory that a straight
line is the shortest distance between two points, the guide made
a break for the spring, howling like a madman. The Pony Rider
Boys looked on in amazement.</p>

<p>Juan fell on his knees before the spring, dipping up the water
in his hands.</p>

<p>"What did you give him, professor?" grinned Tad.</p>

<p>"Hot drops!" answered the man of science tersely.</p>

<p>"Not that stuff you fed me when I ate too much honey in the
Rockies?" questioned Stacy.</p>

<p>"The same."</p>

<p>"Wow! I had ten drops and it felt like a pailful when it got
inside of me."</p>

<p>"How much did you give Juan?" questioned Walter.</p>

<p>"Twenty drops," answered Professor Zepplin without the
suspicion of a smile on his face this time.</p>

<p>The Pony Rider Boys added their yells to those of the guide,
only with a difference. The more Juan drank of the spring water,
the more did the hot drops burn.</p>

<p>All at once he sprang up and started for the plain.</p>

<p>"Catch him!" commanded the Professor.</p>

<p>With a shout the lads started in pursuit. They overhauled the
guide some twenty rods from camp, he having proved himself fleet
of foot. Then again, the fire within him perhaps helped to
increase his natural speed.</p>

<p>"I burn! I burn!" he wailed as the boys grabbed and laughingly
hustled him back to camp.</p>

<p>"You'll burn worse than that if you ever ask for liquor in
this outfit," retorted Ned. "We don't use the stuff, nor do we
allow anyone around us who does."</p>

<p>"How do you feel now?" grinned the Professor as they came up
to him with their prisoner.</p>

<p>"He's got a whole camp-fire in his little estomago," announced
Chunky solemnly, which sally elicited a loud laugh from the
boys.</p>

<p>"Give him some olive oil," directed the Professor. "I think
the lesson has been sufficiently burned into him "</p>

<p>But considerable persuasion was necessary to induce Juan to
take a spoonful of the Professor's medicine. He had already had
one sample of it and he did not want another. Yet after some
urging he tasted of the oil, at first gingerly; then he took it
down at a gulp.</p>

<p>"Ah!" he breathed.</p>

<p>"Is it good?" grinned Tad.</p>

<p>"Si. Much burn, much burn," he explained, rubbing his
stomach.</p>

<p>"Think you want some liquor still, Juan, or would you prefer
another dose of my magic drops?"</p>

<p>"No, no, no, se&ntilde;or!" cried Juan, hastily moving away
from Professor Zepplin.</p>

<p>"Very well; any time when you feel a longing for strong drink,
just help yourself to the hot drops," said the Professor,
striding away to his tent, medicine case in hand.</p>

<p>The guide, a much chastened man, set about assisting in
getting the evening meal, but the hot drops still remained with
him, making their presence known by occasional hot twinges.</p>

<p>Supper that night was an enjoyable affair, though it was
observed that the guide did not eat heartily.</p>

<p>"Do you think he really had a pain?" asked Walter
confidentially, leaning toward Ned.</p>

<p>"Pain? No. He wanted something else."</p>

<p>"And he got it," added Stacy, nodding solemnly.</p>

<p>A chorus of "he dids" ran around the table, stopping only when
they reached Juan himself.</p>

<h3>CHAPTER III</h3>

<h4>INDIANS!</h4>

<p>"Juan, did you see two men get off the train at Bluewater
yesterday when we did? One of them had a big, broad sombrero like
mine?" asked Tad, riding up beside the guide next day while they
were crossing the range.</p>

<p>"Si."</p>

<p>"Know them?"</p>

<p>"Si," he replied, holding up one finger.</p>

<p>"You mean you know one of them?"</p>

<p>The guide nodded.</p>

<p>"Who is he?"</p>

<p>"Se&ntilde;or Lasar."</p>

<p>"Lasar. What's his other name?"</p>

<p>"Juan not know."</p>

<p>"Did they stop in the village?"</p>

<p>"No. Se&ntilde;ors get ponies, ride over mountain," and the
guide pointed lazily to the south-west.</p>

<p>"Where did they go? Do you know?"</p>

<p>Juan shrugged his shoulders, indicating that he did not.</p>

<p>"What is Mr. Lasar's business?"</p>

<p>Again the guide answered with a shrug. He seemed disinclined
to discuss the man in whom Tad Butler was so much interested. Up
to that time the lad had been too fully occupied with other
matters to think of the conversation he and Stacy had overheard
on the Atlantic and Pacific train. Now it came back to him with
full force.</p>

<p>"Know anybody by the name of Marquand in this country?" he
asked, taking another tack.</p>

<p>Juan said he did not, and then Tad gave up his
questioning.</p>

<p>"I was asking Juan about the two men who sat ahead of us in
the train yesterday," he explained to Chunky, as the fat boy
joined them.</p>

<p>"Wha'd he say?"</p>

<p>"One is named Lasar, but he did not know the other one. I
can't help believing that those fellows were plotting to do some
one a great injury."</p>

<p>"So do I," agreed Chunky. "I guess we had better not say
anything about it to the others, but we'll try to find out who
this man Lasar is, and who Mr. Marquand is. Then we'll decide
what to do next."</p>

<p>Their further conversation was interrupted by the voice of the
Professor, announcing that they would halt for their noonday
meal. All other thoughts left the mind of Stacy Brown when the
question of food was raised. He quickly slipped from his pony,
running back to hurry the burros along so as to hasten the meal
for which he was yearning. Only one burro was unpacked, as it was
the intention of the outfit to push on soon after finishing their
lunch.</p>

<p>While the guide, under Ned's direction, was making it ready,
Tad and Chunky strolled off to climb a high rock that they had
seen in the vicinity and which, they thought, might give them a
good view of the plains to the southwest on the other side of the
range.</p>

<p>They had promised to be back in half an hour, but
circumstances arose that caused them to delay their return
considerably.</p>

<p>After threshing through the bushes, over sharp rocks and
through miniature canyons, they gained at last the object of
their quest. The distance had been further than they had
imagined.</p>

<p>"We'll have to make a short trip of it up to the top and
back," said Tad. "It has taken us almost all our time to get
here. But we'll have a look, anyway."</p>

<p>They soon gained the top of the rock, which stood some twenty
feet higher than the crest of the mountain on which it
rested.</p>

<p>"Isn't this great?" exclaimed Tad.</p>

<p>"Might think we were in the Rockies."</p>

<p>"Or the Ozarks."</p>

<p>"I hope we don't have as much trouble here as we did in that
range. Our guide is not much better than the Shawnee we had for a
time on that trip. I can't see the foothills, but the plain on
beyond is pretty clear."</p>

<p>"Hope we don't have to chase all over the desert for water.
I&mdash;"</p>

<p>Tad grasped his companion by the sleeve and jerked him
violently to the rock.</p>

<p>"What's up? What's the matter with you?" protested Stacy.</p>

<p>"Keep still, some one's coming."</p>

<p>The lad's keen ears had caught a sound which Stacy had
entirely failed to hear. It was the sound of horses making their
way through the bushes. There were several in the party, Tad
could tell by the sounds, and having in mind the man Lasar, he
thought he might perhaps learn something of advantage by
remaining quietly on the top of the rock.</p>

<p>All this he explained in a few brief words to his companion.
Then both boys crouched low, peering over the cliff, having first
removed their sombreros.</p>

<p>What they saw, a few moments later, surprised them very much
indeed.</p>

<p>The horsemen in single file suddenly appeared out of a draw to
the east and headed for the rock where the lads were in
hiding.</p>

<p>"Look! Look!" exclaimed Tad in a low, suppressed voice.</p>

<p>"I-n-d-i-a-n-s!" breathed Chunky.</p>

<p>They seemed to rise right up out of the ground, as one by one
they emerged from the draw to the more level rocks that lay about
the hiding place of the Pony Rider Boys.</p>

<p>"I wonder who they are?" questioned Tad.</p>

<p>"They look savage. I wonder if they'd hurt us, Tad?"</p>

<p>"I don't know. I do know, though, that I wouldn't trust those
ugly faces one second. I thought the Blackfeet were savage, but
they're not to be compared with these redskins."</p>

<p>A full dozen of them had, by this time, come into view. They
sat huddled on their ponies, their painted faces just appearing
above the gayly colored blankets in which they were
enveloped.</p>

<p>"They must be cold," muttered Chunky. "Shouldn't think they'd
need bed clothes around them this time of the year."</p>

<p>"Not so loud, Chunky," warned Tad.</p>

<p>"Know what they are, Tad?"</p>

<p>"I wouldn't say positively, but somehow they look to me like
Apaches."</p>

<p>Tad's surmise was correct. The twelve warriors were members of
the savage band that had in past years caused the Government so
much trouble and bloodshed.</p>

<p>"They're off their reservation, if they are Apaches,"
whispered the lad.</p>

<p>"What does that indicate, Tad?"</p>

<p>"I don't know. They may be on the warpath; then, again, they
may be down here after game. I'm not sure even, if there is any
game here. We'll lie still until they get by us. That's the best
plan; don't you think so?"</p>

<p>"Yes."</p>

<p>"Lie perfectly still, Chunky. The little bushes in front of us
will screen us, providing we don't move about. Indians have quick
eyes, though they do look as if they were half asleep."</p>

<p>"They're getting off their horses, Tad. What does that
mean?"</p>

<p>"I don't know."</p>

<p>Tad peered through the bushes, noting every move that the
redskins made. At first he thought they had discovered him and
were about to surround the rock and take him prisoner. But he
soon saw that such was not their intention. Tethering their
ponies, the Indians cast their blankets on the ground, after
having first picked out a suitable place.</p>

<p>"They're making camp," whispered Tad.</p>

<p>One after another of the savages took out his pipe, and soon
the odor from burning tobacco was wafted to the nostrils of the
hidden Pony Rider Boys.</p>

<p>"Guess they're going to get some dinner," decided Stacy,
observing that the strangers were gathering brush.</p>

<p>This was the case. The ponies had been staked where they could
browse on the green leaves, and now their masters were about to
satisfy their own appetites.</p>

<p>Tad groaned.</p>

<p>"What is it?" questioned Stacy apprehensively.</p>

<p>"They will be here half of the day at least. I know a little
about Indians, having been captured by them once. The difference
is that my Indians were in a hurry to get somewhere. These
fellows seem to have all the time in the world. They're
waiting&mdash;killing time for some reason. You'll see, after
they finish their dinner, that they will smoke some more, then
lie down for a catnap."</p>

<p>"And&mdash;and what'll we be doing?"</p>

<p>"We'll be hiding on the top of this rock, Chunky."</p>

<p>"Wish I had my rifle."</p>

<p>"Lucky for both of us that you haven't."</p>

<p>The lads had been talking in whispers, but the words fairly
froze in their mouths, when, upon glancing down they saw the eyes
of a savage fixed upon them.</p>

<p>"On your life, don't move a muscle, Chunky," whispered Tad, as
soon as he had recovered his wits.</p>

<p>Tad was not sure that the Indian saw them, yet there could be
no doubt that the savage eyes were burning into their very
own.</p>

<p>Soon, however, the Indian dropped his glances to his pipe bowl
and the boys breathed a sigh of relief.</p>

<p>"Don't move yet, Chunky," directed Tad.</p>

<p>It was a wise command, for almost instantly the Indian glanced
in their direction again, and, as if satisfied, emptied his pipe
and stretched out on his blanket. The two lads breathed sighs of
relief.</p>

<p>"Did he see us, do you think, Tad?"</p>

<p>"No. At first he thought he saw something up here, but he
changed his mind after a little, as you observed."</p>

<p>By this time the redskins were cooking their midday meal, and
the odor nearly drove Stacy frantic. It made him realize how
hungry he was. He pulled a leaf from a bush and began chewing it
in hopes of wearing off the keen edge of his appetite.</p>

<p>"How long we got to stay here?" he demanded. "I've a good
notion to get up and walk back to camp. They don't dare hurt
us."</p>

<p>"Lie still!" commanded his companion sternly. "I have a plan
that we may be able to put into operation. We can't do it now,
though."</p>

<p>The lads waited, Tad almost with the patience of an Indian,
Chunky ill at ease and restless.</p>

<p>"Can't you lie still? What ails you?"</p>

<p>"My stomach's fighting my appetite. Hear 'em growl at each
other?"</p>

<p>"S-h-h-h."</p>

<p>"I don't care. I'd 'bout as soon be scalped as to starve to
death."</p>

<p>The braves had by now filled their stomachs, gulping their
food down without the formality of chewing it at all. Stacy's
amazement was partly mixed with admiration as he observed the
food disappear with such rapidity.</p>

<p>Now the braves had begun puffing at their pipes. After a time,
one by one laid down his smoking bowl and stretched himself out
for a nap, just as Tad had said they would. The savages were
spread out so that they had a very good view of three sides of
the rock on which the two lads were perched, but the fourth side
was hidden from them. Tad decided that, as the Indians showed no
intention of moving, they were going to remain where they were
until night.</p>

<p>"I want you to follow me, Chunky," Butler said, determined to
try his plan. "You will have to move absolutely without a sound.
Look before you put down foot or hand. Be sure where you place
them. We'll wait a few minutes until they're sound asleep."</p>

<p>"What you going to do&mdash;sneak?"</p>

<p>"Try to get back to camp. The others will be coming along
looking for us pretty soon, if we don't get away. The Indians
might resent being disturbed, and perhaps make trouble."</p>

<p>"Tell me when you're ready, then."</p>

<p>Some minutes had elapsed and the lads could plainly hear the
snores of their besiegers.</p>

<p>"Now!" whispered Tad.</p>

<p>At the same time he began crawling toward the edge of the rock
at their rear. Stacy was close upon his heels.</p>

<p>The side which the boys were to descend was much more
precipitous than the one they had come up by, but offered no very
great difficulties for two nimble boys. Proceeding with infinite
caution, they gained the ground without a mishap.</p>

<p>"We'll walk straight on in this direction, until we get out of
sight; then we can turn to the left and hurry to the camp."</p>

<p>Stacy nodded. As he did so his eyes were off the ground for a
few seconds. Those few seconds proved his undoing.</p>

<p>The lad stepped on a stone that gave way under him, turning
his ankle almost upon its side.</p>

<p>"Ouch!" yelled Chunky.</p>

<p>"Now you've done it," snapped Tad. "We'll have the whole pack
of them down on us. Can you walk?"</p>

<p>"I&mdash;I don't know. I'll try."</p>

<p>"Take hold of my hand. You've got to run."</p>

<p>The redskins were on their feet in an instant. A few bounds
carried them around the rock whence the exclamation had come. By
this time Tad had dragged his companion into the bushes but not
quickly enough to elude the keen eyes of the savages.</p>

<p>The Indians uttered a short, sharp cry, then aimed their
rifles at the figures of the two fleeing Pony Rider Boys.</p>

<p>Tad saw the movement. He threw himself prone upon the ground,
jerking Chunky down beside him.</p>

<p>They were screened from the eyes of the enemy, for the
moment.</p>

<p>"Crawl! Crawl!" commanded Tad.</p>

<p>On hands and feet the boys began running rapidly over the
ground, on down into a narrow gulch. If they could gain the
opposite side they would be safe, as it was unlikely that the
Indians would follow them there. To do so, the boys were obliged
to cross an open space. They had just reached it, when their
pursuers appeared behind them. Once more the Indians raised their
rifles, their fingers exerting a gentle pressure on the
triggers.</p>

<h3>CHAPTER IV</h3>

<h4>ON THE TRAIL OF JUAN</h4>

<p>"Look out! They're going to shoot!" cried Tad.</p>

<p>The lads quickly rolled in opposite directions.</p>

<p>"Hallo-o, Tad!"</p>

<p>The call was in the stentorian voice of Professor Zepplin, to
which Ned Rector added a shout of his own.</p>

<p>Fearing that some ill had befallen Tad and Stacy, the others
had started out after them. Following them came Walter and the
lazy Mexican.</p>

<p>"We're down here! Look out for the Indians!" warned Tad in a
loud voice.</p>

<p>"You're crazy!" jeered Ned. "Come out of that. What ails you
fellows? The dinner's stone cold and Professor Zepplin is all in
the stew."</p>

<p>Tad scrambled to his feet, with a quick glance at the top of
the ridge, where, but a moment before, half a dozen rifles had
been leveled at Chunky and himself.</p>

<p>Not an Indian was in sight. Tad was amazed. He could not
understand it. Grabbing Stacy by an arm he hurried him up the
other side of the gulch, where they quickly joined their
companions.</p>

<p>"What does this mean?" demanded the Professor.</p>

<p>"Hurry! We must get out of this. It's Indians!"</p>

<p>"They&mdash;they wanted to scalp us," interjected Stacy.</p>

<p>"But you runned away, eh? Brave man!" chuckled Ned.</p>

<p>"Indians! There are no Indians here.</p>

<p>"I'll tell you about it when we get to camp. They were just
about to shoot at us when you appeared up here."</p>

<p>"'Pache bad Injun," vouchsafed Juan.</p>

<p>"Were those Apaches?" questioned Tad.</p>

<p>The guide shrugged his shoulders.</p>

<p>"I was sure they were, though I do not think I ever saw an
Apache before. They don't live about here, do they, Juan?"</p>

<p>"'Pache off reservation. Him go dance. Firewater! Ugh!" making
a motion as if scalping himself.</p>

<p>"I'm hungry," called Stacy.</p>

<p>"Yes; so am I," added Tad. "But I think we had better not wait
to eat. We can take a bite in the saddle while we are
moving."</p>

<p>Stacy protested loudly at this, but Tad's judgment prevailed
with the Professor, after the boys had related their experience
in detail. All hands began at once to pack up the few belongings
that had been taken from the burro, and once more they started on
their way, moving somewhat more rapidly than had been the case in
the early part of the day.</p>

<p>"I don't suppose there will be much use in our hurrying,
Professor," said the lad, after they had been going a short time.
"I know enough about Indians to be sure those fellows will follow
us until they satisfy themselves who and what we are. They are up
to some mischief, and they thought we were spying on them.
Otherwise, I do not believe they would have tried to shoot us.
Don't know as you could blame them much."</p>

<p>"I am inclined to agree with you, Master Tad. It will be good
policy not to pay any attention to them if we discover any of
them. Just go right along about our business as if we didn't see
them at all."</p>

<p>"And you're not likely to," grinned Tad. "Where did you say
they were going, Juan?"</p>

<p>"'Pache, go dance."</p>

<p>"He means they're bound for a pow-wow somewhere. That explains
it," nodded the lad.</p>

<p>The rest of the day passed without incident. Not a sign of the
Indians did the boys see. As a matter of fact, the roving
redskins were as anxious to keep out of the sight of the Pony
Riders as the boys were to have them do so.</p>

<p>The party enjoyed the trip over the mountains immensely; and,
when, a few days later, they made camp in the foothills on the
southern side of the Zuni range, the boys declared that they had
never had a better time.</p>

<p>Professor Zepplin decided that they would remain in that camp
for a couple of days, as he desired to make some scientific
investigations and collect geological specimens. This suited the
rest of the party, who were free to make as many side trips as
they wished, into mountain fastnesses or over the plains to the
south of them.</p>

<p>Early in the day the guide asked permission to go away for an
hour or so. They noticed that he had been uneasy, apparently
anxious to get away for some reason unknown to them.</p>

<p>"He's got something up his sleeve," decided Tad, eyeing Juan
narrowly.</p>

<p>"You may go, but we shall expect you back in time for the noon
meal," the Professor told him.</p>

<p>"Give me money," requested the guide.</p>

<p>"Certainly. Let me see, you have worked a week. I gave you
five dollars when we started out. You were to have ten dollars a
week while you were with us. That leaves five dollars due you,"
announced the Professor.</p>

<p>"Me work week. Me want ten dollars."</p>

<p>"But, my man, I've already paid you five dollars, which pays
you for half of the week. Here is the five dollars for the other
half. That's all I owe you. Do you understand?"</p>

<p>"Si se&ntilde;or. But Juan work one week," protested the
guide.</p>

<p>"Let me show him," interrupted Tad. He drew ten marks in the
sand with a stick, separating them into two groups of five. "Here
are ten marks, Juan. We'll call them ten dollars.
Understand?"</p>

<p>"Si."</p>

<p>"Well, here are the first five marks in the dirt that the
Professor paid you. How many does that leave?"</p>

<p>"Five," gleamed the white teeth.</p>

<p>"Right. Go to the head of the class," interrupted Stacy.</p>

<p>"Chunky, you keep out of this. You'll mix him up."</p>

<p>"Guess somebody's mixed up already," retorted the fat boy.</p>

<p>"Five is right," continued Tad. Five dollars is what we owe
you. Is that clear now?"</p>

<p>"Si, se&ntilde;or. But I work one week. Juan earn ten
dollar&mdash;"</p>

<p>"I'll tell you what to do," interjected Ned. "Start all over
again. You begin work to-day; Juan, and we'll pay you ten dollars
for every week from now on. You haven't worked for us before
to-day, you know."</p>

<p>The lads laughed heartily, but Juan merely showed his teeth,
protesting that he had earned ten dollars.</p>

<p>"Here," said Tad, thrusting a five dollar bill at him. "You
take this. It's all we owe you. If you see any of your friends,
you ask them how much we owe you. They'll tell you the Professor
is right."</p>

<p>Juan took the money greedily, still protesting that they owed
him ten dollars, because he had worked a week. Mounting his
burro, he rode away; at once falling into the marvelous speed
that he had shown them on the first day out.</p>

<p>The lads shouted with laughter as they saw burro and rider
disappear among the foothills, both running for all they were
worth, Juan uttering his shrill "yi-yi's," as he pedaled the
ground.</p>

<p>That was the last they saw of the Mexican guide that day. The
rest of the day was employed in games, trick riding, rope
throwing and the like. Stacy found some horned frogs, which were
of considerable interest to the boys. Chunky made the discovery
that the frogs liked to have their backs scratched with a stick,
and the frogs of the foothills probably never spent such a happy
day in all their lives as Chunky and his stick provided for them
that afternoon.</p>

<p>Late in the day, it dawned upon the boys that Juan was still
absent. They consulted with the Professor about this, upon his
return from a collecting trip along the foot of the mountains.
But the Professor was sure Juan would be in in time for
supper.</p>

<p>Such was not the case, however. After the meal had been
finished Tad announced his intention of riding off in the
direction Juan had gone, to see if the guide could not be
found.</p>

<p>"I'll go with you," announced Stacy.</p>

<p>"All right; come along," said Tad, tightening his saddle
girths. "We'll have a fine gallop."</p>

<p>"Be careful that you do not get lost, boys," warned the
Professor.</p>

<p>"Can't get lost. All we have to do is to follow the foothills.
We shall probably find Juan and his burro sound asleep on an
ant-hill somewhere. He's positively the laziest human being I
ever set eyes on."</p>

<p>"Better take along five dollars to bait him with," suggested
Ned.</p>

<p>"I've got my stick," said Stacy. "I'll tickle the back of the
burro and its rider, just as I did the frogs."</p>

<p>"You try that on the burro and he'll kick you into the middle
of next week," warned Walter.</p>

<p>"Yes," laughed Tad. "Did you see him kick when Juan tossed a
tomato can against his heels this morning ? Kicked the can clear
over a tree and out of sight."</p>

<p>"He'd make a good batter for the Chillicothe baseball team,"
suggested Chunky. "He'd be the only real batter in the nine. They
could turn him loose on the umpire when they didn't need him on
the diamond. Wouldn't it be funny to see some umpires kicked over
the high board fence?"</p>

<p>"Come along if you are going with me."</p>

<p>Stacy swung into his saddle, and, galloping off, caught up
with Tad, who was in a hurry to get back to camp before dark.</p>

<p>"Keep your eyes to the right, Chunky, and I'll look on the
left. If you see anything that looks like a lazy Mexican and a
lazy burro, just call out."</p>

<p>"I'll run over them, that's what I'll do," declared the fat
boy. "Hello, there's a fellow on horseback."</p>

<p>"I see him."</p>

<p>The lads changed their course a little so as to head off the
solitary horseman, who was loping along in something of a
hurry.</p>

<p>"Howdy," greeted the lad.</p>

<p>"Evening, stranger. Where you hail from and where to?"</p>

<p>"We're in camp back here. I'm looking for our guide, a Mexican
named Juan. He went away this morning and we haven't seen him
since."</p>

<p>"And you won't so long as his money holds out," laughed the
horseman.</p>

<p>"Then, you've seen him? Will you tell me where I may find
him?"</p>

<p>"Sure thing, boy, but I reckon you'd better not be going any
further?"</p>

<p>"Why not?"</p>

<p>"He's over yonder, gambling with some renegade Apaches."</p>

<p>"Apaches!" exclaimed the lads in one voice. "Those must be the
same fellows we saw up in the range. But how do you suppose he
knew they were over there?"</p>

<p>"He? Those Greasers know everything except what they ought to
know&mdash;especially if there's any games of chance going
on."</p>

<p>"Will you please tell me how we can reach the place? We want
to make a very early start in the morning, and I don't like to
take a chance of his not getting back in time."</p>

<p>"If ye're bound to go, keep right along the edge of the
foothills. You can't miss the place. Better keep away if you
don't want to be getting into a mix-up. There's going to be
lively doings over there pretty soon," warned the stranger.</p>

<p>"How do you mean? I've seen Indians before. Guess they won't
hurt us if they let Juan pow-wow with them."</p>

<p>"This is different, young man. They're going to hold a fire
dance to-night&mdash;"</p>

<p>"A fire dance?"</p>

<p>"Yes."</p>

<p>"I thought they weren't allowed to do that any more?"</p>

<p>"They ain't, but they will. There's a bunch of Sabobas from
over the line. They're the original fire eaters. They come over
here kind of secret like. Then there's Pueblos, 'Paches, and bad
ones from every tribe within a hundred miles of here. Been making
smoke signals from the mountains for more'n a week
past&mdash;"</p>

<p>"I saw that yesterday and thought it was intended as a
signal."</p>

<p>"Right."</p>

<p>"But you don't think there will be any danger in just going
after our guide, do you?"</p>

<p>"Boy, they'll be letting blood before morning, even if the
Government doesn't drop down on the picnic and clean out the
whole bunch of them. There is sure to be trouble before
morning."</p>

<p>"Thank you," said Tad, touching his pony;</p>

<p>"Going on?" questioned the horseman.</p>

<p>"Yes; I'm going to fetch Juan," replied Tad, touching spurs to
his pony and galloping away, followed by Stacy Brown.</p>

<p>The horseman sat his saddle watching the receding forms of the
two Pony Rider Boys until they disappeared behind a butte in the
foothills.</p>

<p>"Well, if those kids ain't got the sand!" he muttered.</p>

<h3>CHAPTER V</h3>

<h4>A DARING ACT</h4>

<p>"If you don't want to go with me you may go back, Chunky.
Perhaps one would not be as likely to get into trouble as two.
You can find your way, can't you?"</p>

<p>"I go back? Think I'm a tenderfoot? Huh! Guess I ain't afraid
of any cheap Wild West Indians. I'm going with you, Tad."</p>

<p>"Very well; but see to it that you keep in the background. You
have a habit of getting into trouble on the slightest
provocation."</p>

<p>"So do you," retorted Stacy.</p>

<p>The ponies had been urged to their best pace by this time.
Twilight had fallen and darkness would settle over them in a very
short time now, though a new moon hovered pale and weak in the
blue sky above. Tad knew this, so he did not worry about the
return trip.</p>

<p>"We should be sighting the place pretty soon," he
muttered.</p>

<p>"I see a light," announced Stacy.</p>

<p>"Where?"</p>

<p>"To the right. Over that low butte there."</p>

<p>"Yes; that's so. I see it now. You have sharp eyes," laughed
Tad.</p>

<p>"I can see when there's anything to see."</p>

<p>"And eat when there's food to be had," added Tad.</p>

<p>"Think those are the Indians that wanted to shoot us, Tad?" he
asked, with a trace of apprehension in his voice.</p>

<p>Tad glanced at his companion keenly;</p>

<p>"Getting cold feet, Chunky?"</p>

<p>"No!" roared the fat boy.</p>

<p>"I beg your pardon," grinned Tad. "I didn't mean to insult
you."</p>

<p>"Better not. Look out that you don't get chilblains on your
own feet. May need a hot mustard bath yourself before you get
through."</p>

<p>They rounded the butte. A full quarter of a mile ahead of them
flickered a large fire, with several smaller blazes twinkling
here and there about it. Shadowy figures were observed moving
back and forth, some with rapid movements, others in slow,
methodical steps.</p>

<p>"There must be a lot of them, Tad."</p>

<p>"Looks that way. I wonder where we shall find the guide."</p>

<p>Both boys fell silent for a time, and as they drew nearer to
the scene pulled their ponies down to a walk. Tad concluded to
make a detour half way round the camp in order to get a clump of
bushes that he had observed between them and the redskins. From
that point of vantage he would be able to get a closer view, and
perhaps locate the man for whom he was looking.</p>

<p>Riding in, they were soon swallowed up in the shadows.</p>

<p>"Hold my pony a moment," directed Tad, slipping to the
ground.</p>

<p>"Where are you going?"</p>

<p>"Nowhere, just this minute. I'm going to look around."</p>

<p>The lad peered through the bushes until, uttering a low
exclamation, he turned to his companion.</p>

<p>"I see him. He's over on the other side&mdash;"</p>

<p>"Who? Juan?"</p>

<p>"Yes. Now I want you to remain right here. Don't move away.
I'll tie my pony so he won't give you any trouble. Sit perfectly
quiet, and if any Indians come along don't bother them. I'm going
around the outside, so I don't have to pass through the crowd,
though they seem too busy to notice anyone."</p>

<p>Tad slipped away in the shadows until he came to a spot
opposite where he had caught a glimpse of the lazy Mexican.</p>

<p>He discovered Juan in the center of a circle of dusky Indians
who were squatting on the ground. Some of the braves were clothed
in nondescript garments, while others were attired in gaudy
blankets. These were the gamblers.</p>

<p>At that moment their efforts were concentrated on winning from
Juan the wages of his first week's work with the Pony Rider Boys.
A blanket had been spread over the ground, and on this they were
wagering small amounts on the throw of the dice, a flickering
camp-fire near by dimly lighting up the blanket and making the
reading of the dice a difficult matter for any but the keenest of
eyes. The sing-song calls of the players added to the weirdness
of the scene.</p>

<p>Tad waited long enough to observe that the guide lost nearly
every time, the stolid-faced red men raking in his coins with
painful regularity.</p>

<p>"It's a wonder he has a cent left. But they're not playing for
very large amounts, as near as I can tell."</p>

<p>Each time the Mexican lost he would utter a shrill "si, si,"
then lured by the hope that Dame Fortune would favor him, reached
greedily for the next throw.</p>

<p>"It's time for me to do something," muttered Tad.</p>

<p>Stepping boldly from his cover, he walked up to the edge of
the circle.</p>

<p>"Juan!" he called sharply.</p>

<p>"Si," answered the Mexican, without looking up.</p>

<p>"Juan!"</p>

<p>This time the word was uttered in a more commanding voice.</p>

<p>"You come with me!"</p>

<p>The guide, oblivious to all beyond the terrible fascination of
the game he was playing, gave no heed to Tad Butler's stern
command. Three times did Tad call to him, but without result. One
of the red men cast an angry glance in the Tad's direction, and
then returned to his play.</p>

<p>Without an instant's hesitation, Tad sprang over into the
center of the circle, and grasping Juan by an ear, jerked him to
his feet.</p>

<p>Red hands fell to belts and dark faces scowled menacingly at
the intruder.</p>

<p>"You come with me, Juan!"</p>

<p>Juan sought to jerk away, but under the strong pull on his
ear, he did not find it advisable to force himself from his
captor's grip.</p>

<p>"You ought to be ashamed of yourself. You're lucky if
Professor Zepplin doesn't give you another dose of hot drops for
this. I suppose these Indians sat down to rob you," growled
Tad.</p>

<p>"No, no, no," protested Juan.</p>

<p>By this time the Indian gamblers had leaped to their feet, an
ugly light in their eyes that boded ill for the Pony Rider Boy
who had interrupted them in the process of fleecing the
Mexican.</p>

<p>With one accord they barred the way in a solid human wall. Tad
found himself hemmed in on all sides. It had been easy to gain an
entrance to the circle, but getting out of it was another
matter.</p>

<p>"This man belongs to me," he said with as much courage in his
tone as he was able to command. "You will please step aside and
let us go. You're breaking the law. If you offer any resistance
I'll have the government officers after you in short order."</p>

<p>He could not have said a worse thing under the circumstances.
At first they took him for a spy, possibly a Government spy. Now
they were sure of it, for had not the lad told them so
himself?</p>

<p>With a growl, one who appeared to be the most important
personage in the group drew his sheath knife and sprang straight
at the slender figure of Tad Butler.</p>

<p>Tad acted without an instant's hesitation.</p>

<p>Stepping aside quickly; he cleverly avoided the knife-thrust.
At the same instant, while the Indian was off his balance, not
yet having recovered from the lunge, the Pony Rider Boy's fist
and the Indian's jaw met in sudden collision.</p>

<p>The impact of the blow might have been heard more than a rod
away.</p>

<p>The red man's blanket dropped from his shoulders; he staggered
backward, made a supreme effort to pull himself together, then
dropped in a heap at the feet of the boy who had felled him.</p>

<p>Without waiting for the astonished red gamblers to recover
their wits, Tad grasped an arm of the Mexican and sprang away
into the bushes.</p>

<p>He had done a serious thing, even though in self-protection.
He had knocked down an Apache brave with his fist. The sting of
that blow would rest upon the savage jaw until the insult was
wiped out by the victim himself.</p>

<h3>CHAPTER VI</h3>

<h4>THE FIRE DANCE OF THE RED MEN</h4>

<p>The Indians made a sudden move to pursue the lad who had done
so daring a thing. One of their number restrained them, pointing
to the fallen brave, as much as to say, "Revenge is for
<i>him!</i>"</p>

<p>With a shrug of their shoulders the Indians sank down and
resumed their game as stoically as before. They gave no further
heed to the unconscious Apache, who still lay just outside the
circle where he had been knocked out by Tad's blow.</p>

<p>"Hurry! Hurry!" commanded the lad, fairly dragging his
companion along. "They'll be after us in a minute."</p>

<p>Yet before the minute had elapsed Tad had halted suddenly, his
wondering eyes fixed upon the scene that was being enacted before
him.</p>

<p>About a pit of red hot coals, naked save for the breech clouts
they wore, swayed the bodies of half-a-dozen powerful braves.</p>

<p>They were the fire dancers and Tad was gazing upon a scene
that probably never will he seen again in this country&mdash;the
last of the fire dances&mdash;a secret dance of which it was to
be supposed the Government agents knew nothing.</p>

<p>Back and forth waved the copper-colored line, right up to the
edge of the pit of glowing coals, uttering a weird chant, which
was taken up by others who were not in the dance.</p>

<p>The voices of the chanters grew louder, their excitement waxed
higher, as the thrill of song and dance pulsed through their
veins.</p>

<p>All at once, Tad was horrified to see one of the dancers leap
into the air, uttering a mighty shriek. While still clear of the
ground the dancer's body turned, then he dove head first into the
bed of hot coals. He was out in an instant.</p>

<p>The chant rose higher as the remaining dancers followed the
leader into the burning pit and out of it. So quickly did they
move that they seemed not to feel the heat, and from Tad's point
of vantage, he was sure that none was burned in the
slightest.</p>

<p>Juan tried to pull away. But Tad held him in a firm grip.</p>

<p>Now that the dancers had passed through the fire unscathed,
others followed them, some no more than touching the live coals,
then bounding out on the other side of the pit; others remaining
long enough to roll swiftly across the glowing bed.</p>

<p>Excitement was rapidly waxing higher and higher. The red men
were in a dangerous mood. It boded ill for the paleface who
sought to interfere with their carnival at this moment.</p>

<p>"Come!" whispered Tad in a low, tense voice. "We've got to get
out of this mighty quick! Chunky's probably half scared to death,
too."</p>

<p>Tad did not go far. He had scarcely taken half a dozen steps
when a frenzied yell, a series of shrill shrieks sounded in the
air. The sounds seemed to come from all directions at once.</p>

<p>"What's that?"</p>

<p>"Me not know."</p>

<p>"Somebody's running a pony. I hear it coming. It's headed
right for that bunch of crazy savages. Probably an Indian gone
mad."</p>

<p>It was not an Indian who was the cause of this new
disturbance, as the lad discovered almost immediately
afterward.</p>

<p>"Yip, yip! Y-e-o-w! W-o-w!"</p>

<p>The yells were uttered in the shrill voice of Stacy Brown.</p>

<p>"It's Chunky!" groaned Tad. "Here's trouble in earnest!"</p>

<p>They never knew just how it happened, and Chunky could not
tell them, but in all probability the excitement had been too
much for the fat boy!</p>

<p>He had moved closer when the dancing began, and the fever of
it got into his veins until his excitement had reached a pitch
beyond his control.</p>

<p>With a series of howls and yells, the fat boy drove the rowels
of the spurs deep into his pony's aides.</p>

<p>The animal dashed forward at a break-neck pace.</p>

<p>Stacy headed straight for the glowing pit, yelling with every
leap of the pony.</p>

<p>Tad gazed spellbound. He seemed powerless to move. He had been
deeply affected by the scenes he had seen; but this was
different. The lad held his breath.</p>

<p>Reaching the edge of the pit, Stacy's pony rose in the air,
clearing the bed of coals in a long, curving leap.</p>

<p>Two red men had just risen from their fiery bath. The hind
hoofs of the pony caught and bowled them over.</p>

<p>"Run to the camp and get help! Take my pony! Ride for your
life! Don't lose a second!" gasped Tad, giving the lazy Mexican a
shove that sent him stumbling until he had measured his length
upon the ground.</p>

<p>Juan picked himself up slowly; and, crawling away into the
bushes, lay down to rest or hide.</p>

<p>Stacy's pony landed fairly in the center of a bunch of
half-clothed savages; some of whom went down under the pony when
it landed on them so unexpectedly.</p>

<p>The next instant the fat boy had been jerked from the animal's
back, to which he was clinging desperately.</p>

<p>With a yell the redskins hurled him toward the fire. But the
force of the throw had not been quite strong enough. Stacy landed
on the edge of the pit, rolling half into it, the upper part of
his body being on the ground to which he was hanging, yelling
lustily. His shod feet were in the fire, however, but as yet he
did not realize that his clothes were burning.</p>

<p>Tad Butler sprang quickly from his hiding place.</p>

<p>"Crawl out!" he roared. "You'll be burned alive!"</p>

<p>"I&mdash;I can't. I fell in," piped Stacy, all his bravery
gone now.</p>

<p>Tad leaped across the intervening space and bounded to the
side of his companion.</p>

<p>"Ouch! I'm on fire!" shrieked Stacy.</p>

<p>Tad grabbed and hauled him from his dangerous position. One of
Tad's feet slipped in while he was doing so. By this time the
clothes of both lads had begun to smoulder.</p>

<p>"Run for it! Better be burned than scalped!" shouted Tad.</p>

<p>Holding to Chunky's arm the Pony Rider Boy started to run. He
was tripped by a moccasined foot before they had gone ten feet.
Both boys fell headlong. Ere they could rise half a dozen mad
savages were upon them.</p>

<p>The lads were jerked roughly to their feet, Chunky shivering,
Tad pale but resolute. There was nothing that he could say or do
to repair the damage that his companion had done.</p>

<p>One whom the lad took to be a chief, from his head-dress and
commanding appearance, pushed his way into the crowd about the
two boys, hurling the red men aside with reckless sweeps of his
powerful arms.</p>

<p>"Ugh!" he grunted, folding his arms and gazing sternly at the
two prisoners.</p>

<p>"Who you?"</p>

<p>Tad explained as best he could.</p>

<p>"Why you do this?"</p>

<p>"My friend here got excited," Tad declared.</p>

<p>"Huh! Lie!"</p>

<p>Tad's face burned. He could scarcely resist the impulse to
resent the imputation that the savage had cast upon him. He
conquered the inclination with an effort.</p>

<p>"Sir, we had no wish to interfere with you. We came here to
get one of our men who had come here to gamble. If you will
release us we will return to our camp and give you no further
trouble. I promise you that."</p>

<p>"T-h-h-h-at's so," chattered Chunky.</p>

<p>"Keep still," whispered Tad. "You'll get us into more
trouble."</p>

<p>The chief appeared to be debating the question in his own
mind, when one of the men, whom Tad recognized as a member of the
gambling circle, whispered something to the chief.</p>

<p>The chief's eyes blazed. Uttering a succession of gutteral
sounds, he gave some quick directions to the red men near
him.</p>

<p>"He makes a noise like a litter of pigs," muttered Chunky.</p>

<p>Acting upon the chief's direction two braves grabbed the lads,
and hurried them away, Tad meanwhile watching for an opportunity
to break away. Had he been alone, he felt sure he could do so
safely. But he would not leave his companion, of course.</p>

<p>The Apaches took the boys a short distance from the camp,
planked them down roughly with their backs to a rock.</p>

<p>"Now, I wonder what next?" muttered Tad.</p>

<p>While one of the braves stood guard over them, the second
trotted back to the camp, returning after a few minutes with a
third savage who carried a rifle.</p>

<p>The boys were sure then that they were to be shot.</p>

<p>"Huh! You run, brave shoot um!" warned one of the first pair,
after which parting injunction the two captors strode away,
leaving their companion to guard the boys.</p>

<p>For a few moments the Indian walked up and down in front of
them, keeping his eyes fixed on the lads. Tad noted that he
walked rather unsteadily. Finally, the guard sat down facing
them, some ten feet away.</p>

<p>"Well, you've certainly gone and done it this time, Chunky,"
said Tad in a low voice. "What on earth made you do a crazy thing
like that?"</p>

<p>"I&mdash;I don't know."</p>

<p>"Well, it's too late for regrets. All we can do will be to
make the best of our situation and watch for an opportunity to
get away."</p>

<p>For several minutes the boys sat gazing at the stolid figure
before them. Tad's mind was working, though his body was not.</p>

<p>"Make believe you're going to sleep, but don't overdo it,"
whispered Tad.</p>

<p>This was something that Stacy could do, and he did it with
such naturalness that Tad could not repress a smile.</p>

<p>"That Indian is dazed from his excitement, and if we make him
think we're asleep he's likely to relax his vigilance," mused
Tad, as the two boys gradually leaned closer together, soon to
all appearances being wrapped in sleep. Little by little the
Indian's head nodded.</p>

<p>Finally he toppled over to one side, the rifle lying across
his feet.</p>

<p>Tad and Chunky remained motionless.</p>

<p>The Indian snored.</p>

<p>The boys waited. Soon the snores became regular. The moment
for action had arrived.</p>

<p>Tad pinched Chunky.</p>

<p>"Huh! Wat'cher want?"</p>

<p>The fat boy had in reality been asleep.</p>

<p>"For goodness sake, keep quiet!" begged Tad in a whisper.
"Don't you know there's an Indian with a gun guarding us? He's
asleep. Come, but be quiet if you value your life at all. Anyway;
remember that I want to save mine."</p>

<p>Stacy was wide awake now. Together the lads crawled cautiously
away, every nerve on the alert. Over by the pit of live coals the
uproar was, if any thing, louder than before.</p>

<p>The boys gave that part of the camp a wide berth.</p>

<p>"Now get up and run!" commanded Tad. "Raise your feet off the
ground, so that you won't fall over every pebble you come
to."</p>

<p>Tad and Chunky clasped hands and scurried through the bushes,
making as little noise as possible, and rapidly putting
considerable distance between them and the sleeping red man who
had been set to watch them.</p>

<p>"Having lots of fun, ain't we, Tad?"</p>

<p>"Fun! You're lucky if you get off with a whole
scalp&mdash;"</p>

<p>"Wow!" exclaimed Stacy.</p>

<p>The lads brought up suddenly.</p>

<p>At first they were not sure what had disturbed them, that is,
Tad was not. This time Stacy had seen more clearly than his
companion.</p>

<p>"Ugh!" grunted a voice right in front of them, and there
before their amazed eyes stood an Indian. To their imaginations,
he was magnified until he appeared nearly as tall as the moonlit
mountains in the background.</p>

<p>For one hesitating instant the lads stood staring at the
figure looming over them.</p>

<p>With an angry growl the red man bounded toward them. He had
recognized the boys and was determined that they should not
escape him.</p>

<p>It was Stacy Brown's wits that saved the situation this time.
As the Indian came at them the fat boy dived between the savage's
naked legs, uttering a short, sharp yelp, for all the world just
like that of a small dog attempting to frighten off a bigger
antagonist.</p>

<p>There could be only one result following Chunky's unexpected
tactics. Mr. Redskin flattened himself on the ground prone upon
his face. Somehow the fellow was slightly stunned by the fall,
not having had time to save himself from a violent bump on the
head.</p>

<p>"Run for it, Chunky! He'll be after us in a second."</p>

<p>The lads made a lively sprint for the open. In a moment,
observing that they were not being followed, they halted, still
in the shadows of the bushes. All at once Tad stumbled over an
object in the dark. At first he thought it was another Indian,
and both boys were about to run again, when the voice of the
prostrate man caused them to laugh instead.</p>

<p>"Si, si, se&ntilde;or," muttered the fellow.</p>

<p>"Juan? It's Juan! Get up! You here yet?"</p>

<p>They pulled the lazy guide to his feet, starting off with him,
when all at once Tad happened to think that one of the ponies was
back there somewhere among the Indians.</p>

<p>"You stay here, and don't make a fool of yourself this time!"
commanded Tad.</p>

<p>"Where are you going?"</p>

<p>"After your pony. You hang on to Juan. I'll hold you
responsible for him, Chunky."</p>

<p>"Guess I can take care of a lazy Mexican if I can floor a
redskin," answered Stacy proudly.</p>

<p>But Tad was off. He had not heard the last remark of his
companion. In picking his way carefully around the camp to where
he had seen a lot of ponies tethered, Tad found a Navajo blanket.
He quickly possessed himself of it, throwing it over his head,
wrapping himself in its folds.</p>

<p>He was now in plain sight of the wild antics of the dancers,
who, still mad with the excitement of the hour, were performing
all manner of weird movements. For a moment, the lad squatted
down to watch them. He had been there but a short time when a
voice at his side startled him, and Tad was about to take a fresh
sprint when he realized that it was not the voice of a
savage.</p>

<p>"Young man, you'd better light out of here while you've got
the chance," said the stranger.</p>

<p>Turning sharply, Tad discovered a man, who, like himself, was
wrapped in a gaudy blanket. He was unable to see the man's face,
which was hidden under the Navajo.</p>

<p>"Who are you?" demanded the lad sharply.</p>

<p>"I'm an Indian agent. I only got wind of this proposed fire
dance late this afternoon. These men will all be punished unless
they return to their reservations peaceably. If they do, they
will be let go with a warning."</p>

<p>"Do they know you're here?"</p>

<p>"They? Not much," laughed the agent.</p>

<p>"But supposing they ask you a question?"</p>

<p>"I can talk all the different tribal languages represented
here. You'd better go now. Where are you from?"</p>

<p>Tad explained briefly.</p>

<p>"Well, you have had a narrow escape tonight. If they catch you
again they'll make short work of you."</p>

<p>"They won't catch me. Thank you and good-bye."</p>

<p>"Don't go that way. Strike straight back; then you will have
an open course."</p>

<p>"I'm going after my companion's pony. I think I know where to
find it," answered Tad, wrapping the blanket about himself and
stealing across an open moonlit space without attracting
attention.</p>

<p>The Indian agent watched him curiously for a moment; then he
rose and followed quickly after Tad.</p>

<p>"That boy is either a fool&mdash;which I don't think&mdash;or
else he doesn't know the meaning of the word 'fear.'"</p>

<p>Tad did not find Stacy's pony where he had expected. Indian
ponies were tethered all about, singly and in groups, while here
and there one was left to graze where it would.</p>

<p>"What sort of a looking pony is yours?" questioned the agent,
coming up to him.</p>

<p>"A roan."</p>

<p>"Then I think I know where he is. He was not like the horses
in this vicinity, which attracted my attention to him."</p>

<p>The agent led the way, in a roundabout course, to the south
side of the camp, where they began looking over the animals.
Occasionally a redskin would pass them, but no one gave either
the slightest heed.</p>

<p>"Here he is," whispered Tad."</p>

<p>"Lead him off. Don't mount just yet."</p>

<p>Tad did as the agent had suggested. But all at once something
happened. Tad's blanket had dropped from his shoulders, revealing
him in his true colors. An Indian uttered a yell. Tad sprang into
his saddle and put spurs to the pony. In a moment more than a
dozen redskins had mounted and started yelling after him,
believing he was stealing a pony.</p>

<p>Tad headed away to the south to give his companions a chance
to get out of the way, and the savages came in full cry after
him.</p>

<h3>CHAPTER VII</h3>

<h4>FLEEING FROM THE ENEMY</h4>

<p>A shrill cry was wafted to the boy.</p>

<p>After a few moments Tad realized that they were no longer on
his trail. He knew the cry had been a signal, warning them to
halt. What he did not know, however, was that the Indian agent
had been responsible for the signal; that he in all probability
had saved the boy's life.</p>

<p>The lad, after satisfying himself that the Indians had
abandoned the chase, at once circled about, coming back to the
point where he had left Chunky and the Mexican. They were both
there waiting for him.</p>

<p>"What was all that row?" demanded the fat boy. "We were having
a little horse race, that's all," grinned Tad grimly; "Hurry
along, now."</p>

<p>They reached their own camp in safety an hour later. The two
boys had much to relate, and as the narration proceeded,
Professor Zepplin shook his head disapprovingly.</p>

<p>"Young gentlemen, much as I have enjoyed this summer's outing,
it's a wonder I haven't had nervous prostration long before this.
It'll be a load off my mind if I get you all back in Chillicothe
without anything serious happening to you."</p>

<p>"I think," suggested Tad, "that we had better strike camp at
once and move on. The moon is shining brightly, and Juan ought to
have no trouble in leading the way."</p>

<p>"Yes; that will be an excellent idea. You think they may give
as further trouble?" questioned the Professor.</p>

<p>"They may before morning. They're getting more ugly every
minute."</p>

<p>"Everything worth while seems to happen when I am not around,"
protested Ned.</p>

<p>"Good thing you weren't along," replied Stacy. "You'd been
scared stiff. It was no place for tenderfeet."</p>

<p>"You&mdash;you call me a tenderfoot?" snapped Ned, starting
for him.</p>

<p>"Stop quarreling, you two!" commanded Tad. "We've had all the
fighting we want for one night. Get busy and help strike this
camp. Guess none of this outfit could truthfully be called a
tenderfoot. We've all had our share of hard knocks, and we'll
have enough to look back to and think about when we get home and
have time to go over our experiences together this winter."</p>

<p>The thought, that at any minute the half-crazed savages might
sweep down on them hastened the preparations for departure. The
Pony Rider Boys never struck camp more quickly than they did in
the soft southern moonlight that night.</p>

<p>All at once Juan set up a wail.</p>

<p>"What is it&mdash;what's the trouble now?" demanded Tad.</p>

<p>"My burro. I go for him."</p>

<p>"You'll do nothing of the sort. You'll walk, or ride a pack
animal," answered Stacy. "You don't deserve to have a burro."</p>

<p>"Here's his old burro now," called Walter, as a shambling
object, much the worse for wear, came stumbling sleepily into
camp.</p>

<p>The boys set up a shout that was quickly checked by Tad.</p>

<p>"If the burro can find the way what do you think an Indian
could do, fellows?"</p>

<p>"That's right," agreed Professor Zepplin. "We had better keep
quiet&mdash;"</p>

<p>"And hit the trail as fast as possible," added Tad. "Daylight
must find us a long ways from here."</p>

<p>"And ride all night&mdash;is that what you mean?" complained
Stacy.</p>

<p>"Yes; it'll give you an appetite for breakfast."</p>

<p>"I've got one already."</p>

<p>"That goes without saying," agreed Ned.</p>

<p>"Come, come, Juan!" urged Tad, observing that the guide was
doing nothing more in the way of work than rubbing the nose of
his prodigal burro. "Aren't you going to help us?"</p>

<p>"Yes; what do you think we're paying you good American dollars
for?" demanded Ned.</p>

<p>"I think some of the Professor's hot drops would be good for
what ails him," observed Stacy Brown. "I'll get the Professor to
give him a dose right now."</p>

<p>"No, no, no! Juan no want fire drops."</p>

<p>"All right; get busy, then."</p>

<p>He did. Not since the last dose of the Professor's medicine
had he shown such activity. Very soon after that the camp had
been struck and the party was ready to take up its journey.</p>

<p>Tad took a last look about, to make sure that nothing had been
left.</p>

<p>"I think I'll put out the fire," he said, tossing the bridle
reins to Stacy, while he ran over to the dying camp-fire, whose
embers he kicked apart, stamping them out one by one. "No use
leaving a trail like that for any prowling redskin."</p>

<p>They were quickly under way after that, Juan leading the way
without the least hesitancy. He and the burro worked together
like a piece of automatic machinery.</p>

<p>"He might better walk and lead the burro," said Stacy, who had
been observing their peculiar method of locomotion. "Should think
it would be easier."</p>

<p>The moon was dropping slowly westward, and the party was using
it for a guide, keeping the silver ball sharply to their right.
Juan on the other hand had hitched his lazy chariot to a
star.</p>

<p>By this star he was laying his course to the southward. The
Pony Rider Boys enjoyed their moonlight trip immensely; and a
gentle breeze from the desert drifting over them relieved the
scorching heat of the late afternoon and early evening.</p>

<p>"Guess the Indians are not going to bother us," said Walter,
riding up to Tad just before daylight.</p>

<p>"Probably not. They will be in too much trouble with the
Government, after last night's performances, to give much thought
to chasing us. And besides, I don't see why they should wish to
do so. Had they been very anxious to be revenged on us, most
likely they would not have allowed us to get away as they
did."</p>

<p>"Was it very terrible, Tad?" asked Walter Perkins.</p>

<p>"What, the dance, or what happened afterwards?" laughed the
lad.</p>

<p>"Both?"</p>

<p>"Well, I'm free to confess that neither was exactly pleasant.
When they caught Chunky I thought it was all up with us. Hello.
There's Mr. Daylight."</p>

<p>Glancing to the left the boys saw the sky turning to gray. A
buzzard screamed overhead, laying its course for the mountains
where it was journeying in search of food.</p>

<p>"What's that?" demanded Stacy, awakening from a doze in his
saddle.</p>

<p>"Friend of yours with an appetite," grinned Ned.</p>

<p>"I thought it sounded like breakfast call," muttered Stacy,
relapsing into sleep again, his head drooping forward until, a
few minutes later, he was lying over the saddle pommel with arms
thrown loosely about the pony's neck</p>

<p>Ned, observing the lad's position, suddenly conceived a
mischievous plan. Unnoticed by the others, he permitted his own
pony to fall back until he was a short distance behind Stacy. The
others were a little way ahead.</p>

<p>Ned rode slowly alongside his companion, as he passed,
bringing the rowel of his spur sharply against the withers of
Chunky's mount.</p>

<p>The effect was instantaneous.</p>

<p>The fat boy's mount, itself half asleep, suddenly humped its
back, and with bunching feet leaped clear of the ground.</p>

<p>"Hello, what's the matter back there?" called Ned, who by this
time was a full rod in advance of his companion.</p>

<p>Stacy did not answer. He was at that moment turning an
undignified somersault in the air, his pony standing meekly,
awaiting the next act in the little drama.</p>

<p>The fat boy landed on the plain in a heap.</p>

<p>"Are you hurt, Chunky?" cried Tad anxiously, slipping from his
saddle and running to his companion.</p>

<p>"I&mdash;I dunno, I&mdash;I fell off, didn't I?"</p>

<p>"You're off, at least," grinned Ned. "What was the
matter?"</p>

<p>"I&mdash;I dunno; do you?"</p>

<p>"How should I know? If you will go to sleep an a bucking
broncho, you must expect things to happen."</p>

<p>Stacy, by this time, had scrambled to his feet; after which,
he began a careful inventory of himself to make sure that he was
all there. He grinned sheepishly.</p>

<p>Satisfying himself on this point, Stacy shrugged his shoulders
and walked over to his pony with a suggestion of a limp.</p>

<p>"Now that we have halted we might as well make camp for a few
hours, get breakfast and take a nap," suggested the
Professor.</p>

<p>The boys welcomed this proposition gratefully, for they were
beginning to feel the effects of their long night ride, added to
which, two of them had had a series of trying experiences before
starting out.</p>

<p>In the meantime, Stacy Brown had been examining his pony with
more than usual care.</p>

<p>Tad observed his action, and wondered at it. A moment later,
the fat boy having moved away; Tad thought he would take a look
at the animal. He was curious to know what Stacy had in mind.</p>

<p>"So that's it, is it?" muttered Tad.</p>

<p>He found the mark of a spur on the pony's withers. While it
had not punctured the skin, the spur had raked the coat, showing
that the rowel had been applied with considerable force.</p>

<p>Tad, with a covert glance about, saw Ned Rector watching
him.</p>

<p>"You're the guilty one, eh?" he demanded, walking up to
Ned.</p>

<p>"S-h-h-h," cautioned Ned. "He'll be redheaded if he knows I am
to blame for his coming a cropper."</p>

<p>"Chunky's not so slow as you might think. But that wasn't a
nice thing to do. It's all right to play tricks, but I hope you
won't be so cruel as to use a spur on a dumb animal, the way you
did, even if he is an ill-tempered broncho. You might have broken
Chunky's neck, too."</p>

<p>Ned's face flushed.</p>

<p>"It was a mean trick, I'll admit. Didn't strike me so at the
time. Shall I ask Chunky's pardon?"</p>

<p>"Do as you think best. I should, were I in your place."</p>

<p>"Then, I will after breakfast."</p>

<p>Ned got busy at once, assisting to cook the morning meal,
while Juan led the ponies out to a patch of grass and staked them
down. While the Pony Rider cook was thus engaged, he felt a tug
at his coat sleeve.</p>

<p>Turning sharply, Ned found Stacy at his side. Stacy's face was
flushed and his eyes were snapping.</p>

<p>"What is it, Chunky?"</p>

<p>"Come over here, I want to talk with you."</p>

<p>They stepped off a few paces out of hearing of the others, Tad
smiling to himself as he observed Stacy's act.</p>

<p>"Well, what's the matter, Chunky?"</p>

<p>"I can lick you, Ned Rector!"</p>

<p>"Wha&mdash;what?"</p>

<p>"Said I could lick you. Didn't say I was going to, understand.
Just said I could&mdash;"</p>

<p>"Like to see you try it."</p>

<p>"All right; it's a go."</p>

<p>Ere Ned could recover from his surprise, Stacy Brown had
launched himself upon his companion. One of Stacy's arms went
about Ned's neck, one foot kicked a leg from under Ned, and the
two lads went down in the dust together.</p>

<p>It had happened in a twinkling.</p>

<p>"Here, here! What's going on over there?" shouted the
Professor, starting on a run, while the other lads were
laughing.</p>

<p>Chunky was sitting on the chest of his fallen adversary, Ned
struggling desperately to throw the lad off.</p>

<p>"Cock-a-doodle-doo!" crowed Chunky, in imitation of a rooster,
flapping his hands on his thighs, in great good humor with
himself.</p>

<p>Professor Zepplin grabbed him by the collar, jerking Stacy
Brown from the fallen Pony Rider Boy.</p>

<p>Ned scrambled to his feet, and, with a sheepish grin on his
face, proceeded to brush the dust from his clothes.</p>

<p>"Downed you, did he?" questioned Tad.</p>

<p>"It wasn't fair. I didn't know he was going to try."</p>

<p>"Neither did the Russians when the Japs sailed into them at
Port Arthur," laughed Walter. "And they got what was coming to
them."</p>

<p>"So did I. Chunky, I deserve more than you gave me. If you
want to, beat me up some more."</p>

<p>"Now, isn't that sweet of him?" chortled Stacy. "I fell off my
pony, then I fell on you, and we'll call it quits, eh, Ned?"</p>

<p>Ned put out a hand, which Stacy grasped with mock
enthusiasm.</p>

<p>"We sure will."</p>

<p>"I'd like to know what this is all about?" questioned Walter.
"Something's been going on."</p>

<p>"I made his pony throw him over," admitted Ned.</p>

<p>Stacy nodded with emphasis.</p>

<p>"He found it out and jumped on me."</p>

<p>"I'll turn you both over my knee if you try to repeat these
performances," warned the Professor.</p>

<p>Linking arms, Stacy and Ned started for the breakfast table,
humming,</p>

<p>"For he's a jolly good fellow,"</p>

<p>and a moment later all four of the lads were standing about
the breakfast table, singing the chorus at the top of their
voices.</p>

<h3>CHAPTER VIII</h3>

<h4>ASLEEP ON THE SLEEPY GRASS</h4>

<p>The slanting rays of the sun got into the eyes of the Pony
Rider Boys. Four arms were thrown over as many pairs of eyes to
shut out the blinding light.</p>

<p>"Ho-ho-hum!" yawned Chunky.</p>

<p>Cocking an impish eye at his companions, he observed that each
had fallen into a deep sleep again.</p>

<p>The fat boy cautiously gathered up a handful of dry sand and
hurled it into the air. A shower of it sprinkled over them, into
their eyes and half-opened mouths.</p>

<p>Three pairs of eyes were opened, then closed again.</p>

<p>Encouraged by his success, Stacy chuckled softly to himself,
then dumped another handful of sand over his companions.</p>

<p>But he was not prepared for what followed.</p>

<p>Three muscular boys hurled themselves upon him. Instantly the
peaceful scene was changed into a pandemonium of yells. Down came
the tent poles, the canvas rising and falling as if imbued with
sudden life.</p>

<p>Professor Zepplin, startled by the racket, roused himself and
sprang from his own tent. Observing the erratic actions of the
tent in which the boys had been sleeping, he instantly concluded
that something serious had happened.</p>

<p>"Boys! boys!" he cried, running to the spot, frantically
hauling away the canvas. "What has happened? What has
happened?"</p>

<p>They were too busy to answer him. When finally he had
uncovered what lay below, he found his charges literally tied up
in a knot, rolling and tumbling, with Stacy Brown lying flat on
his back, each of his three companions vigorously rubbing
handfuls of sand over his face, down his neck and in the hair of
his head.</p>

<p>"I think I'll take a hand in this myself," smiled the
Professor. He ran to his tent, returning quickly. In his hands he
carried two pails of water.</p>

<p>Unluckily for the boys, they had failed to observe what he was
doing. Nor did they understand that they were in danger until the
contents of the two pails had been dashed over them.</p>

<p>There were yells in earnest this time. The water turned the
dirt into mud at once, and their faces were "sights." Stacy's
face had been protected, in a measure, by the other boys who were
bending over him rubbing in the sand.</p>

<p>The unexpected bath put a sudden end to their sport, and they
staggered out shouting for vengeance. They did not even know who
had been the cause of their undoing.</p>

<p>The Professor, as he walked away smiling, had handed the pails
to the grinning Juan with instructions to refill them.</p>

<p>The unfortunate Juan, bearing the pails away, was the first
person to catch the eyes of the lads, as they rubbed the sticky
mud out of them.</p>

<p>With a howl they projected themselves upon him. Juan's grin
changed instantly to an expression of great concern. He went down
under their charge, with four boys, instead of three, on top of
him.</p>

<p>"Duck him!" shouted some one.</p>

<p>"Yes! Douse him in the spring!" chorused the boys.</p>

<p>Juan cried out for the Professor, but his appeals were in
vain.</p>

<p>Shouting in high glee the lads bore him to the spring from
which they got their water. They plumped him in, not any too
gently, again and again.</p>

<p>"Now roll him in the sand," suggested Ned.</p>

<p>They did so.</p>

<p>The wet clothing and body made the sand stick to him until the
lazy Mexican was scarcely recognizable.</p>

<p>At this point Professor Zepplin took a hand. He came bounding
to the scene and began throwing the boys roughly from their
unhappy victim. Perhaps be was not greatly disturbed over the
shaking up the guide had sustained, but of course he confided
nothing of this to the boys.</p>

<p>"You ought to be ashamed of yourselves&mdash;for four of you
to pitch on to one weak Mexican! I'm surprised, young
gentlemen."</p>

<p>"But&mdash;but&mdash;he ducked us," protested Ned.</p>

<p>"He did nothing of the sort."</p>

<p>"What&mdash;didn't duck us? Guess I know water when I feel
it," objected Walter.</p>

<p>"You were ducked, all right, but it is I, not Juan, who am
responsible for that."</p>

<p>"You?" questioned the lads all at once.</p>

<p>The Professor nodded, a broad grin on his face.</p>

<p>"But he had the pails."</p>

<p>"I gave them to him, after pouring the water over you. That's
what is known as circumstantial evidence, young gentlemen. Let it
be a lesson to you to be careful how you convict anyone on that
kind of evidence."</p>

<p>"Fellows," glowed Chunky, "we've made a mistake. Let's make it
right by ducking the Professor."</p>

<p>The boys looked over Professor Zepplin critically.</p>

<p>"I guess we'd better defer that job till we grow some more,"
they decided, with a laugh.</p>

<p>The next fifteen minutes were fully occupied in cleaning up
and putting on their clothes. They were all thoroughly awake now,
with cheeks flushed and eyes sparkling after their violent
exercise. The guide had rather sullenly washed off the wet dust
that clung to his face and hands.</p>

<p>"Never mind the clothes, Juan," advised Ned. "It'll brush off
as soon as it gets dry. We'll take up a contribution to buy you a
clothes brush. Ever see one?"</p>

<p>Juan grinned.</p>

<p>"You promise not to gamble the money away if we give it to
you?"</p>

<p>"Si."</p>

<p>"Shell out, fellows. Ten cents apiece. That ought to salve his
injured feelings."</p>

<p>Ned passed the hat, all contributing.</p>

<p>"That makes forty cents. Here, Professor, you haven't put in
your ten yet. It'll take just fifty cents to paste up Juan's
injuries."</p>

<p>"That reminds me of a fellow I heard about once," announced
Stacy.</p>

<p>"Are you going to tell a story?" questioned Ned.</p>

<p>"If you will keep still long enough," replied Stacy.</p>

<p>"Then me for the bunch grass. It's like going to a funeral to
hear Chunky try to tell a story."</p>

<p>"Let him tell it," shouted the lads.</p>

<p>"Go on, Chunky. Never mind Ned. He'll laugh when he gets back
to Chillicothe," jibed Walter.</p>

<p>"I heard of a fellow once&mdash;"</p>

<p>"Yes; you told us that before," jeered Ned.</p>

<p>"Not the one we ducked in the spring, was it?" grinned
Tad.</p>

<p>"Who's telling this story?" demanded Stacy belligerently.</p>

<p>"You are, I guess. I won't interrupt again."</p>

<p>"Well, did I say this fellow was a boy?"</p>

<p>"No."</p>

<p>"Well, he was&mdash;he's grown up now. He rushed into a drug
store&mdash;"</p>

<p>"Was anything chasing him?" asked Ned innocently.</p>

<p>Stacy gave no heed to the interruption.</p>

<p>"And he said to the man in the store, 'Please, sir, some
liniment and some cement?'"</p>

<p>"'What?' asked the clerk all in a muddle. You see, he'd never
had a prescription like that to fill before. It made him tired,
'cause he thought the kid was making fun of him."</p>

<p>"'What&mdash;what's the trouble? What do you want liniment and
cement for?'</p>

<p>"'Cause,' said the boy to the pill man, ''cause mom hit pop on
the head with a plate.'"</p>

<p>For a moment there was silence, then the boys roared. But Ned
never smiled.</p>

<p>"Laugh, laugh! Why don't you laugh?" urged Walter.</p>

<p>"Laugh? Huh! I laughed myself almost sick over that a long
time ago. Read it in an almanac when I was in short
trousers."</p>

<p>"The ponies! The ponies!" cried Juan, rushing up to them,
waving his arms, then running his fingers through his long black
hair until it stood up like the quills of a porcupine.</p>

<p>"What!" queried the Pony Rider Boys in sudden alarm. "What's
the matter with the ponies?"</p>

<p>Juan pointed to the place where the stock had been tethered
after they arrived at the camp.</p>

<p>There was not an animal to be seen anywhere on the plain.</p>

<p>"Gone!" gasped the lads, with sinking hearts.</p>

<p>"No, no, no. There!" stammered the guide.</p>

<p>With one accord the boys ran at top speed to the spot
indicated by Juan.</p>

<p>There, stretched out in the long grass lay bronchos and
burros.</p>

<p>"They're dead, the ponies are dead, every one of them!" cried
the lads aghast.</p>

<h3>CHAPTER IX</h3>

<h4>THE MIDNIGHT ALARM</h4>

<p>"What's this, what's this?" demanded the Professor, striding
up.</p>

<p>"Look! Look! The ponies are dead!" exclaimed Ned
excitedly.</p>

<p>"What do you suppose could have happened to them?" stammered
Walter.</p>

<p>"Is it possible? What's the meaning of this, guide?"</p>

<p>Juan shrugged his shoulders and showed his white teeth.</p>

<p>In the meantime Tad had hurried to his own pony, and was down
on his knees examining it. Placing his hands on the animal's
side, he remained in that position for an instant, then sprang
up.</p>

<p>"They're not dead, fellows! They're alive!"</p>

<p>"Asleep," grumbled Ned disgustedly.</p>

<p>"But there's something the matter with them. Something has
happened to the stock," added Tad.</p>

<p>"Only a false alarm," nodded Stacy.</p>

<p>"Think so? Try to wake your pony up," advised Tad.</p>

<p>Stacy had already hurried to his own broncho, and now began
tugging at the bridle rein, with sundry pokes in the animal's
ribs.</p>

<p>"I can't. He's in a trance," wailed Stacy, considerably
startled.</p>

<p>That expression came nearer to describing the condition of the
stock than any other words could have done.</p>

<p>"Guide, what do you know about this?" questioned the
Professor. "Has some one been tampering with our animals?"</p>

<p>Juan shrugged his shoulders with an air of indifference.</p>

<p>"No bother bronchs."</p>

<p>"Then will you please tell us what is the matter with
them?"</p>

<p>"<i>Sleepy grass!</i>"</p>

<p>"Sleepy grass?" chorused the lads.</p>

<p>"Of course they're asleep all right," added Ned. "But whoever
heard of sleepy grass?"</p>

<p>"He means they're sleeping on the grass," Stacy informed
them.</p>

<p>"Ah! I begin to understand," nodded the Professor. "I think I
know what the trouble is now. The guide is no doubt right."</p>

<p>The boys gathered around him, all curiosity.</p>

<p>"Tell us about it, Professor. We are very much mystified?"
said the Pony Riders.</p>

<p>"A long time ago I remember to have read, somewhere, of a
certain grass in this region that possessed peculiar narcotic
properties&mdash;"</p>

<p>"What's narcotic?" interrupted Stacy.</p>

<p>"Something that makes you go to sleep when you can't,"
explained Tad Butler, rather ambiguously.</p>

<p>"When eaten by horses or cattle it is said to put them into
deep sleep. The Rockefeller Institute, I believe, is already
making an analytical test of the grass."</p>

<p>"Please talk so I can understand it," begged Stacy.</p>

<p>"Yes; those words make my head ache," scowled Ned. "Even the
guide is making up faces in his effort to understand."</p>

<p>"He does understand. He understands only too well. For many
years this grass has been known. Cows turned out for the day
would fail to return at night&mdash;"</p>

<p>"To be milked," interjected Stacy.</p>

<p>"And an investigation would disclose them sleeping in some
region, where the sleepy grass grew</p>

<p>And the fat boy hummed:</p>

<p>"Down where the sleepy grass is growing."</p>

<p>"Travelers who have tied out their horses in patches of the
grass for the night have been unable to continue their journey
until the animals recovered from their strange sleep. Thus the
properties of the grass became known."</p>

<p>"Indians use 'em to tame bad bronchos," the guide informed
them.</p>

<p>"Just so."</p>

<p>"But, when will they wake up?" questioned Tad.</p>

<p>"Mebby sun-up to-morrow," answered Juan, glancing up at the
sky.</p>

<p>"What, sleep twenty-four hours?" demanded Ned.</p>

<p>"Si."</p>

<p>"Preposterous."</p>

<p>"Then, then, we've got to remain here all the rest of the
afternoon and night&mdash;is that it?" demanded Tad.</p>

<p>"It looks that way."</p>

<p>"And you knew about this stuff, Juan?" questioned Tad.</p>

<p>"Si."</p>

<p>"Well, you're a nice sort of a guide, I must say."</p>

<p>"You ought to be put off the reservation," threatened Stacy,
shaking a menacing fist in front of the white teeth.</p>

<p>In the meantime, Tad had gone over to the animals again, and,
taking them in turn, sought to stir them up. He found he could
not do so. The ponies' heads would drop to the ground after he
had lifted and let go of them, just as if the animals were
dead.</p>

<p>"Gives you a creepy feeling, doesn't it?" shivered Walter.</p>

<p>"I should say it does," answered Ned.</p>

<p>"Well, what is it, Chunky?" asked Tad, who observed that Stacy
had something on his mind that he was trying to formulate into
words.</p>

<p>"I've got an idea, fellows," he exploded.</p>

<p>"Hold on to it, then. You may never get another," jeered
Ned.</p>

<p>"What is it, Master Stacy?" asked the Professor.</p>

<p>"Then&mdash;then&mdash;then&mdash;that's what Juan and his
burro have been eating all the time. I knew there was something
the matter with them."</p>

<p>A loud laugh greeted the fat boy's suggestion.</p>

<p>"Guess he's about right, at that," grinned Tad.</p>

<p>"A brilliant thought," agreed the Professor. "Boys, I must
have some of that grass. I shall make some experiments with
it."</p>

<p>"Experiment on Chunky," they shouted.</p>

<p>"No; he sleeps quite well enough as it is," smiled the
Professor.</p>

<p>"I want some of it too&mdash;no, not to eat," corrected the
fat boy. "I'll feed it to my aunt's cat when I get back; then he
won't be running away from home every night."</p>

<p>"Better unload the rest of the equipment, boys," advised the
Professor. "If we must remain here all night we might as well
make the best of it."</p>

<p>Without their ponies, the lads spent rather a restless
afternoon. They had not fully realized before how much a part of
them their horses had become until they were suddenly deprived of
them.</p>

<p>In the meantime, the bronchos slept on undisturbed.</p>

<p>"I've got another idea," shouted Stacy.</p>

<p>"Keep it to yourself," growled Ned. "Your ideas, like your
jokes, graduated a long time ago."</p>

<p>"Is there sleepy grass in the Catskill Mountains!" persisted
Stacy.</p>

<p>"We don't know, and we don't&mdash;"</p>

<p>"I know there is, and that's what put Rip Van Winkle to sleep
for twenty years," shouted the fat boy in high glee. "See, I know
more than&mdash;"</p>

<p>"Yes; you're the original boy wonder. We'll take that for
granted," nodded Ned Rector.</p>

<p>Tad, however, was not inclined to look upon their enforced
delay with anything like amusement. To him it had its serious
side. He had not forgotten that they had been fleeing from the
Indians. When he got an opportunity to do so, without his
companions overhearing, he approached the Professor.</p>

<p>"I think it would be a good plan for us to have a guard over
our camp to-night."</p>

<p>"On account of?"</p>

<p>"Yes."</p>

<p>"Very well; I think myself that it would be a prudent move.
Have Juan sit up, then."</p>

<p>"No, he's a sleepy bead. Suppose we boys take turns?"</p>

<p>"Very well; arrange it to suit yourselves. I presume we ought
to do something of the sort every night. It might have saved us
some trouble on our Ozark journey had we been that prudent.
Arrange it to suit you. I'll take my turn</p>

<p>"No; we can do it, Professor. You go to bed as usual. We'll
draw lots to see who takes the different watches. With the four
of us we'll have to take only two hours apiece. That won't be bad
at all."</p>

<p>The other boys, after the plan had been explained to them,
entered into it enthusiastically. Walter was to take the first
trick, Ned the next, Chunky the third and Tad the fourth.</p>

<p>And they were to take their guns out with them. The Professor
agreed to this, now that they had become more familiar with
firearms. As a matter of fact, all the boys had developed into
excellent marksmen, though Tad was recognized as the best shot of
the party.</p>

<p>Professor Zepplin, during the afternoon, gave each of them a
lesson in revolver shooting, using for the purpose, his heavy
army revolver. They did pretty well with this weapon, but, of
course, were not nearly as expert with it as with the rifle.</p>

<p>Evening came and the stock was still sleeping soundly. There
was nothing the boys could do but let them sleep, though the fact
of all the ponies and burros lying about as if dead began to make
the Pony Riders nervous. Night came, and with it semi-darkness,
the moon being overcast with a veil of fleecy white clouds, which
cast a grayish film over the landscape. The lads joked each other
about having the "creeps," but none would admit the charge.</p>

<p>Walter, with rifle slung over his right shoulder, went out on
the first watch with instructions to go at least two hundred
yards from camp and keep walking around the camp in a circle.
This would protect them from surprises on all sides. Ned decided
not to retire until he had taken his guard trick, in view of the
fact that he was to go on at eleven o'clock. But Stacy, proposing
to get all the sleep he was entitled to, turned in early. The
rest did not disturb him. The boys were unusually quiet that
evening, perhaps feeling that the responsibility of the safety of
the camp rested wholly upon their youthful shoulders.</p>

<p>Ned came in at one o'clock, after having taken his turn,
unslung his rifle, drew the cartridges then put them back in the
magazine again.</p>

<p>"I might need them before morning," he told himself.</p>

<p>Chunky being sound asleep, Ned grabbed him by a foot giving
him a violent pull.</p>

<p>"Wat'cher want? Get out!" growled the fat boy sleepily.</p>

<p>"Get up and take your watch!" commanded Ned.</p>

<p>"Who's afraid of Indians?" mumbled Stacy.</p>

<p>This time Ned took the lad by the collar, jerked him to his
feet and shook him until Stacy yelled "Ouch!" so loudly as to
awaken the entire camp.</p>

<p>It took some time, however, to get Stacy himself awake
sufficiently to make him understand that he had a duty to
perform. Finally, however, he shouldered his rifle, after
surreptitiously helping himself to a sandwich from the cook tent.
Then be marched off, munching the bread and meat.</p>

<p>"See here," snapped Ned, running after him. "You're not
measuring off your distance. Come back and pace it off."</p>

<p>"How many?"</p>

<p>"Two hundred yards. Stretch your fat legs as far as they'll
go, then you'll have a yard, more or less."</p>

<p>Stacy started all over again, forgot the count, came back,
then tried it again. Even at that he was not sure whether he had
gone one hundred yards or five.</p>

<p>He was awake enough, now, to observe his surroundings. The
cool breezes of the night were tossing the leaves of the
cottonwoods near the water course to the west of them, while here
and there in the foliage might be heard the exultant notes of a
mocking bird.</p>

<p>Stacy shivered.</p>

<p>"Guess it's going to freeze to-night," he decided, beginning
his steady tramp about the camp of the Pony Rider Boys.</p>

<p>Muttering to himself, as was his habit when alone, Stacy kept
on until finding himself opposite the ponies, he decided to go
over and look at them. All were asleep. Not one had awakened
since going down under the powerful influence of the "sleepy
grass."</p>

<p>"I'd like to eat some of that stuff myself, right now," Chunky
decided out loud. "I'd have a good excuse for going to sleep
then. Now I can't without getting jumped on by the fellows.
Wonder what time it is&mdash;only half-past one. Must be
something the matter with my watch. I know I've been out more'n
two hours."</p>

<p>This trip he circled out further from the camp, growing a
little more confident because nothing had happened to disturb
him.</p>

<p>In the meantime the camp slept in peace&mdash;that is, the
lads did until nearly time for the change of guard. Then the
whole party was aroused with the sudden, startling conviction
that something serious had happened.</p>

<p>All at once the crack of a rifle sounded on the still night
air. It was followed by another shot, and another, until four
distinct reports had rolled across the plains.</p>

<p>In wild disorder the Pony Rider Boys tumbled from their cots,
and, grasping their weapons, leaped from the tents.</p>

<p>"What's the row?" inquired the Professor.</p>

<p>"Wow! Wow! Wow! Yeow!" shrieked a shrill voice to the
northward.</p>

<p>"It's Chunky. He's giving the alarm! We're attacked!" cried
the lads.</p>

<p>Bang ! Bang!</p>

<p>They saw the flash of the fat boy's weapon before the report
reached their ears.</p>

<p>A moment later the other boys caught sight of Stacy dashing
into camp, hatless, waving his rifle and yelling as if bereft of
his senses.</p>

<p>"What is it? What is it?" cried the boys with one voice.</p>

<p>"Indians! Indians! The prairie's full of them!"</p>

<h3>CHAPTER X</h3>

<h4>MEETING THE ATTACK</h4>

<p>Instantly the camp was thrown into confusion. The lads ran
here and there, not knowing what to do.</p>

<p>"Get behind the ponies! That's the only cover we can find
here. Run for it!"</p>

<p>And run they did, the Professor outdistancing all the rest in
his attempt to secrete himself where the enemy's weapons would
not be likely to reach him.</p>

<p>In a moment more, the camp of the Pony Rider Boys was
deserted, and behind each sleeping pony lay a boy, with rifle
barrel poked over the animal's back, ready to shoot at the first
sign of the redskins. Stacy, in his excitement, had forgotten
that not a cartridge was left in his magazine, and the others
were too fully occupied to remember to tell him.</p>

<p>For all of half an hour did the party lie protected. The boys
began to grow restive. Tad's suspicions were being slowly
aroused.</p>

<p>"I'm going to do a little scouting," he told them, slipping
from behind the pony and skulking along back of the tents. The
moon was shining brightly now. He could see a long distance. Not
a human being was in sight.</p>

<p>"I thought so," he muttered, retracing his steps. "See here,
Stacy Brown, what did you see&mdash;what did you shoot at?" he
demanded sternly.</p>

<p>"I&mdash;I shot the chute&mdash;I&mdash;I mean I chuted the
shot&mdash;I mean&mdash;"</p>

<p>"Say, what do you mean?"</p>

<p>"I&mdash;I mean&mdash;say, leggo my neck, will you?" roared
Chunky.</p>

<p>"Fellows, he doesn't know what he means."</p>

<p>"Guess he's been feeding on crazy grass out on the prairie,"
was Ned's conclusion.</p>

<p>"There isn't an Indian anywhere around here. I know it. They
would have been after us long before this, if there had
been."</p>

<p>One by one the boys came from their hiding places, the lazy
Mexican last. Disapproving eyes were turned on Stacy.</p>

<p>"Chunky, you come along and show us where you were when you
shot&mdash;did you shoot at an Indian?" asked Tad.</p>

<p>"Yes, and I&mdash;I&mdash;I shot him."</p>

<p>"Show us. We're all from Chillicothe," demanded Ned.</p>

<p>Stacy, with a show of importance, led the way, keeping a wary
eye out for the enemy. It was noticed, however, that each of the
lads held his rifle ready for business in case there should be an
enemy about.</p>

<p>"There! I was standing right over there&mdash;I guess."</p>

<p>"You guess! Don't you know?" questioned the Professor.</p>

<p>"Yes; that's the place."</p>

<p>The lad walked over to the identical spot from which he had
first fired his rifle.</p>

<p>"He was over there and I shot at him, so," said Stacy,
leveling the weapon. "Ye-ow! There he is, now!" shrieked the
boy.</p>

<p>Every weapon flashed up to a level with the eyes.</p>

<p>"There is something over there on the ground," decided the
Professor.</p>

<p>"Put down your guns so you don't shoot me," said Tad. "I'm
going to find out what it is."</p>

<p>Keeping his own weapon held at "ready," the lad walked boldly
over to where a heap of some sort lay on the plain. It surely had
not been there during the afternoon&mdash;Tad knew that.</p>

<p>He reached it, stooped, peered, then uttered a yell.</p>

<p>"What is it" they cried, hurrying up.</p>

<p>"You've done it now, Chunky Brown. You certainly have gone and
done it."</p>

<p>"What&mdash;what is it?" cried the others in alarm.</p>

<p>"You've shot the lazy Mexican's burro. That's your Indian,
Stacy Brown."</p>

<p>Juan, who had followed them out on the plain, uttered a wail
and threw himself upon the body of his prostrate burro. The
animal, it seemed, had recovered consciousness during the night,
and in a half-dazed condition had wandered out on the plain.
Stacy, while crouching down on the ground, had seen the head and
long ears of the burro. He thought the ears were part of the head
dress of a savage and let fly a volley of bullets at it.</p>

<p>"He&mdash;he isn't dead," shouted the fat boy. "See, I just
pinked him in the ears."</p>

<p>And, surely enough, an examination revealed a hole through
each ear. The holes were so close to the animal's head that it
was reasonable to suppose the shot had stunned him, being already
in a weakened condition from the sleepy grass.</p>

<p>The boys set to work to rouse the burro, which they succeeded
in doing in a short time. Juan, with arm around the lazy beast's
neck, led it back to camp, petting and soothing it with a
chattering that they could not understand.</p>

<p>There was no more sleep in camp that night, though the boys
turned in at the Professor's suggestion. Every little while,
laughter would sound in one of the tents, as the others fell to
discussing Stacy's Indian attack.</p>

<p>The next morning they were overjoyed to find that the ponies
had awakened and were trying to get up.</p>

<p>"Lead them out of that grass, fellows," shouted Tad, the
moment he saw the ponies were coming around. "We don't want them
to make another meal of that stuff"</p>

<p>"Nor take another of Chunky's Rip Van Winkle sleeps," added
Ned.</p>

<p>Never having had a like experience, none of the lads knew what
to do with their mounts after getting them sufficiently awake to
lead them to a place of safety. They appealed to Juan for advice,
but the lazy Mexican appeared to know even less than they.</p>

<p>Tad, after studying the question a few moments, decided to
give them water, though sparingly. This they appeared to relish
and braced up quite a little. But the boy would not allow them to
graze until nearly noon, when each one took his pony out, making
sure that there was none of the sleepy grass around. The animals
were then permitted to graze.</p>

<p>About the middle of the afternoon Tad decided that all were
fit to continue the journey, and that it would be safe to travel
until sunset. Everyone was glad to get away from the spot where
they had had such unpleasant experiences, and the boys set off,
moving slowly, the stock not yet being in the best of
condition.</p>

<p>Late in the afternoon, when they had about decided to make
camp, one of the boys espied an object, something like a quarter
of a mile away, that looked like the roof of a house.</p>

<p>Ned said it couldn't be that, as it appeared to be resting on
the ground. They asked Juan if he knew what it was, and for a
wonder he did. He said it was a dug-out&mdash;a place where a man
lived.</p>

<p>"Is he a hermit?" asked Stacy apprehensively, at which there
was a laugh. Stacy had not forgotten his experiences in the cave
of the hermit of the Nevada Desert.</p>

<p>For the next hour, the lads were too busy, pitching tents and
unloading the pack animals, to give further thought to the
dug-out or its occupant; but when, after they had prepared their
evening meal, they saw some one approaching on horseback, they
were instantly curious again.</p>

<p>The newcomer proved to be the owner of the dug-out. He was a
tall, square-jawed man, with a short, cropped iron-gray beard and
small blue, twinkling eyes.</p>

<p>"Will you join us and have some supper?" asked Tad politely,
walking out to greet the stranger.</p>

<p>"Thank you; I will, young man," smiled the stranger.</p>

<p>Tad introduced himself and companions.</p>

<p>"You probably have heard my name before, young men. It is Kris
Kringle; I'm living out here for my health and doing a little
ranching on the side."</p>

<p>Stacy looked his amazement.</p>

<p>"Is&mdash;is he Santa Claus?" he whispered, tugging at Tad's
coat sleeve.</p>

<p>"No, young man. I am not related to the gentleman you refer
to," grinned Mr. Kringle.</p>

<p>There was a general laugh at Stacy's expense.</p>

<p>After supper, the visitor invited all hands to ride over to
his dug-out and spend the evening with him. The boys accepted
gladly, never having seen the inside of a dug-out, and not
knowing what one looked like. Professor Zepplin had taken a
sudden liking to the man with the Christmas name, and soon the
two were engaged in earnest conversation.</p>

<p>The distance being so short, Tad decided that they had better
walk, leaving the ponies in charge of Juan so they might get a
full night's rest. Then all hands set out for the dug-out.</p>

<p>A short flight of steps led down into the place, the roof of
which was raised just far enough above the ground to permit of
two narrow windows on each side and at the rear end.</p>

<p>The room in which they found themselves, proved to be a
combination kitchen and dining room. Its neatness and orderliness
impressed them at once.</p>

<p>"And here," said Kris Kringle, "is what I call my den,"
throwing open a door leading into a rear room and lighting a
hanging oil lamp.</p>

<p>The Pony Rider Boys uttered an exclamation of surprised
delight.</p>

<p>On a hardwood floor lay a profusion of brightly colored Navajo
rugs, the walls being hung with others of exquisite workmanship
and coloring, interspersed with weapons and trophies of the
chase, while in other parts of the room were rare specimens of
pottery from ancient adobe houses of the Pueblos.</p>

<p>At the far end of the room was a great fire-place. Book cases,
home-made, stood about the room, full of books. The Professor
realized, at once, that they were in the home of a student and a
collector.</p>

<p>"This is indeed an oasis in the desert," he glowed. "I shall
be loath to leave here."</p>

<p>"Then don't," smiled Mr. Kringle. "I'm sure I am glad enough
to have company. Seldom ever see anyone here, except now and then
a roving band of Indians."</p>

<p>"Indians!" exclaimed Tad. "Do you have any trouble with
them?"</p>

<p>"Well, they know better than to bother with me much. We have
had an occasional argument," said their host, his jaws setting
almost stubbornly for the instant. "Most of the tribes in the
state are peaceful, though the Apaches are as bad as ever. They
behave themselves because they have to, not because they wish to
do so."</p>

<p>"I saw their fire dance the other night," began Tad.</p>

<p>"What?" demanded Mr. Kringle.</p>

<p>"Fire dance."</p>

<p>"Tell me about it?"</p>

<p>Tad did so, the host listening with grave face until the
recital was ended.</p>

<p>He shook his head disapprovingly.</p>

<p>"And this&mdash;this Indian that you knocked down&mdash;was he
an Apache?"</p>

<p>"I don't know. I think so, though. He had on a peculiar head
dress</p>

<p>"That was one of them," interrupted Mr. Kringle, with
emphasis. "And I'll wager you haven't heard the last of him yet.
That's an insult which the Apache brave will harbor under his
copper skin forever. He'll wait for years, but he'll get even if
he can."</p>

<p>The faces of the Pony Rider Boys were grave.</p>

<p>"Have you a reliable guide?"</p>

<p>"Far from it," answered the Professor. "If I knew where I
could get another, I'd pack him off without ceremony.</p>

<p>Kris Kringle was silent for a moment.</p>

<p>"I need a little change of scene," he smiled. "How would you
like to have me take the trail with you for a week or so?"</p>

<p>"Would you?" glowed the Professor, half rising from his
chair.</p>

<p>"I think I might."</p>

<p>"Hurrah!" cried the Pony Riders enthusiastically. "That will
be fine."</p>

<p>"Of course, you understand that I expect no pay. I am going
because I happen to take a notion to do so. Perhaps I'll be able
to serve you at the same time."</p>

<p>The Professor grasped Mr. Kringle by the hand impulsively.</p>

<p>"I'll send that lazy Juan on his way this very
night&mdash;"</p>

<p>"Let me do it," interposed Stacy, with flushing face. "I'll do
it right, Professor. But I'll put on my pair of heavy boots
first, so it'll hurt him more."</p>

<p>The boys shouted with laughter, while the new guide's eyes
twinkled merrily.</p>

<p>"I think, perhaps, the young man might do it even more
effectively than you or I," he said. "Have you weapons,
Professor?"</p>

<p>"Rifles."</p>

<p>"That's good. We may need them."</p>

<p>"Then you think?"</p>

<p>"One can never tell."</p>

<h3>CHAPTER XI</h3>

<h4>RIDING WITH KRIS KRINGLE</h4>

<p>A slender ribbon of dust unrolling across the plain far to the
northward marked the receding trail of Juan and his lazy burro.
They had given him a week's extra pay and sent him on his
way.</p>

<p>The burro was making for home, aided by the busy feet of its
master, while Stacy Brown, shading his eyes with one hand, was
watching the progress of the guide, whom he had just sent
adrift.</p>

<p>"Well, he's gone," grinned Stacy, turning to his companions,
who were busy striking camp.</p>

<p>"And a good riddance," nodded Tad.</p>

<p>"He'll probably join the Indians and tell them where we are,"
suggested Walter.</p>

<p>"I hadn't thought of that," replied Tad. "Still, if they wish
to find us they know how without Juan's telling them."</p>

<p>"How?"</p>

<p>"They can follow a trail with their eyes shut," said Ned.</p>

<p>"That's right. They do not need to be told," muttered Tad.</p>

<p>Everything being in readiness, the boys started with their
outfit for the dug-out, where they were to be joined by Kris
Kringle. They felt a real relief to know that they were to have
with them a strong man on whom they were sure they could rely to
do the right thing under all circumstances. Tad, however,
believed that Mr. Kringle had decided to join them, fearing they
would be attacked by the Apaches and come to serious harm. Yet he
hardly thought the redskins would dare to follow them, after the
latter had once gotten over the frenzy of their fire dance. By
that time the Indian agents would have rounded them all up on the
reservations, where the Indians would be able to do no more harm
for a while.</p>

<p>After picking up the new guide the start was made. The party
had water in plenty in the water-bags, so that no effort was made
to pick up a water hole when they made camp late in the
afternoon. The guide had brought in his pack a tough old sage
hen, at which the lads were inclined to jeer when he announced
his intention of cooking it for their supper.</p>

<p>"You'll change your mind when you taste it, young gentlemen.
It depends upon the cooking entirely. A sage hen may be a
delicious morsel, or it may not," answered Mr. Kringle, with a
grin.</p>

<p>They were encamped near a succession of low-lying buttes, and
to while away the time until the supper hour, the boys strolled
away singly to stretch their legs on the plain after the long
day's ride in the hot sun.</p>

<p>When they returned an hour or so later, Stacy, they observed,
was swinging a curious forked stick that he had picked up
somewhere a few moments ago.</p>

<p>"What you got there?" questioned Ned.</p>

<p>"Don't know. Picked it up on the plain. Such a funny looking
thing, that I brought it along."</p>

<p>"Let me see it," asked Mr. Kringle.</p>

<p>Stacy handed it to him.</p>

<p>"This," said the guide, turning the stick over in his hand,
"is a divining rod."</p>

<p>"Divining rod?" demanded Stacy, pressing forward.</p>

<p>"Yes."</p>

<p>"Never heard of it. Is it good to eat?"</p>

<p>"Looks to me like a wish bone," interjected Ned. "Do you eat
wish bones, Chunky?"</p>

<p>"Might, if I were hungry enough."</p>

<p>"A divining rod is used to locate springs. Some users of it
have been very successful. I couldn't find a lake with it, even
if I fell in first."</p>

<p>"Indeed," marveled the Professor. "I have heard of the
remarkable work of divining rods. What Rind of wood is it?"</p>

<p>"This is hazel wood. Oak, elm, ash or privet also are used,
but hazel is preferred in this country."</p>

<p>"Then&mdash;then we won't have to go dry any more&mdash;I can
find water with this when I'm dry?" questioned Stacy.</p>

<p>"You might; then again you might not."</p>

<p>"Better take it away from him," suggested Ned. "He might find
a spring. If he did he'd be sure to fall in and drown."</p>

<p>The stick, which was shaped like the letter Y, was an object
of great interest to the Pony Rider Boys. One by one they took it
out on the plain, in an effort to locate some water. The guide
instructed them to hold the Y with the bottom up, one prong in
each hand and to walk slowly.</p>

<p>But, try as they would, they were able to get no results.</p>

<p>"The thing's a fraud!" exclaimed Ned disgustedly, throwing the
divining rod away.</p>

<p>Stacy picked it up.</p>

<p>"I know why it doesn't work," he said.</p>

<p>"Why?" demanded the other boys.</p>

<p>"'Cause&mdash;'cause there isn't any water to make it work,"
he replied wisely.</p>

<p>The boys groaned.</p>

<p>Shortly after returning to camp, they found the fat boy
standing over a pail of water holding the stick above it.</p>

<p>He was talking to the stick confidentially, urging it to "do
something," to the intense amusement of the whole outfit.</p>

<p>"Now, where's your theory?" questioned the Professor.</p>

<p>"Why, it doesn't have to work, does it? Don't we know there's
water here? If we didn't the stick would tell us, maybe. Take my
word for it, this outfit won't have to go dry after this. Stacy
Brown and his magic wand will find all the water needed,"
continued the fat boy proudly.</p>

<p>"Your logic is good, at any rate, even if the rod doesn't work
at command," laughed the Professor.</p>

<p>Supper was a jolly affair, for everyone was in high spirits.
The sage hen, contrary to general expectation, was found to be
delicious. Chunky begged for the wish bone and got it. He said
he'd use it for a divining rod when he wanted to find a little
spring.</p>

<p>"Mr. Kringle, I am commissioned by the fellows to ask you a
question," announced Tad, after the meal had been in progress for
a time.</p>

<p>"Ask it," smiled the guide.</p>

<p>"We thought we'd like to call you Santa Claus, seeing you've
brought us so much cheer. Then again, it's your name you know.
Kris Kringle is Santa Claus."</p>

<p>"Oh, well, call me what you please, young men."</p>

<p>From that moment on, Kris Kringle was Santa Claus to the Pony
Rider Boys.</p>

<p>They had now come to a rolling country, with here and there
high buttes, followed by large areas of bottom lands which were
covered with rank growths of bunch grass. Traveling was more
difficult than it had been, and water more scarce.</p>

<p>It was on the second day out, after they had been skirmishing
for water in every direction, that the lads heard the familiar
yell from Chunky.</p>

<p>"There goes the trouble maker," cried Ned. "He's at it
again."</p>

<p>The guide bounded up, starting on a run for the spot where
Chunky's wail had been heard. The others were not far behind.</p>

<p>They saw the red, perspiring face of the fat boy above a clump
of grass, his yells for help continuing, unabated.</p>

<p>"What is it?" shouted the guide.</p>

<p>"I've got it, Santa Claus! I've got it!"</p>

<p>"Got what?" roared the Professor.</p>

<p>"The stick!&mdash;I mean it's got me. Help! Help!"</p>

<p>Stacy was wrestling about as if engaged in combat with some
enemy. They could not imagine what had gone wrong&mdash;what had
caused his sudden cries of alarm.</p>

<p>"It's the divining rod!" called the guide.</p>

<p>"He's found water!" shouted the boys.</p>

<p>"I've got it! I've got it! Come help me hold it. The thing's
jerking my arms off."</p>

<p>To the amazement of the Pony Rider Boys, the forked stick in
the hands of the fat boy was performing some strange antics.
Breathing hard, he would force it up until it was nearly upright,
when all at once the point of the triangle would suddenly swerve
downward, bending the rod almost to the breaking point.</p>

<p>"See it? See it?"</p>

<p>"Most remarkable," breathed Professor Zepplin.</p>

<p>"Yes, there can be no doubt about it," nodded the guide.</p>

<p>"He's bluffing," disagreed Ned.</p>

<p>"Doesn't look to me as if he were," returned Tad.</p>

<p>"Take hold with me here, if you don't believe me," cried
Stacy. "No, not on the stick, take hold of my wrists."</p>

<p>Ned promptly accepted the invitation.</p>

<p>Instantly the tug of the divining rod was felt by the new
hands.</p>

<p>Ned let go quickly.</p>

<p>"Ugh! The thing gives me the creeps."</p>

<p>"Let me try it, Master Stacy," said Professor Zepplin.</p>

<p>"I can't let go of it," wailed Chunky.</p>

<p>"Step off a piece," directed the guide.</p>

<p>Stacy did so, whereupon the divining rod immediately ceased
its peculiar actions.</p>

<p>The Professor took hold of it, but the rod refused to work for
him.</p>

<p>"Let Santa Claus try it," suggested Ned.</p>

<p>The guide did so, but with no more success than the Professor
had had.</p>

<p>"I told you it wouldn't work for me," Mr. Kringle grinned.
"Here, Master Tad, you try it."</p>

<p>Tad, with the rod grasped firmly in his hands, walked back and
forth three times without result. On the fourth attempt, however,
the stick suddenly bent nearly double.</p>

<p>All were amazed.</p>

<p>"Why were we unable to get results, Mr. Kringle?" questioned
the Professor.</p>

<p>"According to some French writers as much depends upon the man
as on the divining rod. Where one succeeds another fails
absolutely. Supposing the others take a try?"</p>

<p>Walter and Ned did so, but neither could get the rod to move
for him.</p>

<p>"I guess Chunky is the champion water-finder," laughed
Ned.</p>

<p>"Would it not be a good idea to find out whether or not there
<i>is</i> water here?" asked the Professor.</p>

<p>"Yes," agreed the guide. "It may be so far down that we cannot
reach it, however. You know in some parts of this region they are
locating water with the rod and sinking artesian wells."</p>

<p>"Why&mdash;why didn't we think to bring some down with us?"
demanded Chunky. "Can't we get any in some of the towns down
here?"</p>

<p>"Some what?" questioned the guide.</p>

<p>"Artesian wells."</p>

<p>A roar greeted the fat boy's question.</p>

<p>"Bring down a load of artesian wells!" jeered Ned.</p>

<p>"An artesian well, my boy, is nothing more than a hole in the
ground," the guide informed him, much to Chunky's chagrin.</p>

<p>The spot where the divining rod had so suddenly gotten busy
was about midway of an old water course, covered with a thick
growth of bunch grass.</p>

<p>"Get some tools, boys," directed the Professor.</p>

<p>Tad ran back to camp, which lay some distance to the east of
where they were gathered. Searching out a pick and two shovels,
he leaped on his pony, dashing back to the arroyo.</p>

<p>"That was quickly done," smiled Santa Claus. "Are all of you
lads as quick on an errand as that?"</p>

<p>"Only Chunky," answered Ned solemnly.</p>

<p>The guide began to dig, in which effort he was joined by Stacy
Brown, who, with a shovel, caved in about as much dirt as he
threw out.</p>

<p>"Here, give me that shovel," commanded Ned. "You'll fill up
the bole before we get it dug."</p>

<p>Tad, having tethered his pony, took the extra shovel and went
to work.</p>

<p>"Guess it's a false alarm," decided Ned, after they were up to
their shoulders in the hole.</p>

<p>"Don't be too sure. The ground is quite damp here. Try your
rod, young man."</p>

<p>"Chunky held the divining rod over the excavation, whereupon
it drew down with even greater force than before.</p>

<p>"Dig," directed the guide.</p>

<p>They did so with a will.</p>

<p>"Here's water!" shouted Kris Kringle.</p>

<p>They crowded about the hole, amazement written on every
face.</p>

<p>A fresh, cool stream bubbled up into the hole, causing those
in the pit to scramble out hastily.</p>

<p>"Some of you boys run back to camp and fetch pails and
water-bags," directed the guide.</p>

<p>"I'll go. I've got the pony here," spoke up Tad.</p>

<p>"No; I want you to do something else for me."</p>

<p>"We'll all go," offered Walter. The three lads started on a
run, Chunky holding his precious divining rod tightly clasped in
both hands.</p>

<p>"What is it you wish?" questioned Tad.</p>

<p>"I wish you would ride over toward that small butte and cut a
load of brush. Want to rip-rap the outer edge of this water hole,
so the bank will not cave in and undo all our work! Have you a
hatchet?"</p>

<p>"Yes, in my saddlebags."</p>

<p>"Good. Hurry, please."</p>

<p>Tad leaped into the saddle, and putting spurs to his broncho,
tore through the high bunch grass, above which only his head was
now observable. In a short time he was back with the green stuff
piled high on the saddle in front of him, with a large bundle
tied to the cantle of the saddle behind.</p>

<p>Unloading this, Butler started back at a gallop for more. When
there was work to be done, Tad Butler was happy. Activity to him
was a tonic that spurred him on to ever greater efforts.</p>

<p>This time he found himself obliged to climb higher up the
butte in order to get branches of available size. These he cut
and threw down. After having procured what he thought would be
all he could carry the lad scrambled down, and, dropping on his
knees began tying them into bundles. The heat was sweltering, and
occasionally be paused to wipe away the perspiration.</p>

<p>"I smell smoke," sniffed Tad. "I wonder where it comes
from?"</p>

<p>The odor grew stronger, but so interested was he in his labor
that he did not at once understand the significance of his
discovery.</p>

<p>"W-h-o-o-e-e!"</p>

<p>It was a long-drawn, warning shout.</p>

<p>"It's a signal!" exclaimed the lad, straightening up. "I
wonder what's the matter?"</p>

<p>As he looked toward the camp a great wall of flame seemed to
leap from the ground between him and his companions. There it
poised for one brief instant, then, with a roar swooped down into
the tall bunch grass, rushing roaring and crackling toward
him.</p>

<p>For an instant he stood unbelieving, then the truth dawned
upon him.</p>

<p>"The prairie's on fire!" cried Tad.</p>

<h3>CHAPTER XII</h3>

<h4>THE DASH FOR LIFE</h4>

<p>The shouts of the Pony Rider Boys and of the guide were
swallowed up in the roar of the flames."</p>

<p>"They'll be burned alive!" whispered the lad.</p>

<p>Then, all at once he realized that he himself was in dire
peril.</p>

<p>"I'll have to go the other way and be quick about it at that,"
he decided, making a dash for the pony, that already was
whinnying with fear and tugging at its tether.</p>

<p>Tad did not wait to untie the stake rope. With a sweep of his
knife he severed it and vaulted into the saddle.</p>

<p>Whirling the animal about he headed to the west. To his alarm
he suddenly discovered that the prairie fire was rapidly
encircling him, the flames running around the outer edge of the
bottoms with express train speed, threatening to head him off and
envelop him. Had it not been for the long grass, which, tangling
the feet of the pony, made full speed impossible, the race with
the flames would have been an easy one to win. As it was, Tad
knew that the chances were against him.</p>

<p>But the dire peril in which he found himself did not daunt the
Pony Rider Boy. Perhaps his face had grown a shade paler
underneath the tan, but that was all. His senses were on the
alert, his lips met in a firm pressure and the hand gripped the
bridle rein a little more firmly, perhaps, than usual.</p>

<p>Uttering a shrill cry to inform his companions that be was
alive to his peril, and at the same time to encourage the
broncho, Tad dug in the rowels of his spurs.</p>

<p>The frightened pony cleared the ground with all four feet,
uttering a squeal, and launching itself at the rapidly narrowing
clear space ahead of him; and urged to greater and greater
endeavor at every leap by the short, sharp "yips" of his
rider.</p>

<p>For all the concern that showed in his face, Tad Butler might
have been running a horse race for a prize rather than fleeing
for his life.</p>

<p>"If I make it I'm lucky,"&mdash;commented Tad grimly. He found
himself wondering, at the same time, how the fire had started. He
knew that the flames first showed themselves midway between where
he was at work and the place where his companions were engaged at
the water hole.</p>

<p>He could not understand it. Fire was necessary to use to start
fire, and he knew that none of them had been foolish enough even
to light a match in the dry bunch grass of the prairie.</p>

<p>The flames were reaching mountain high by this time, great
clouds of smoke rolling in on the breeze and nearly suffocating
him.</p>

<p>At times Tad was unable to see the opening ahead of him. When,
however, the smoke lifted, giving him a momentary view, he saw
that the gap was rapidly closing.</p>

<p>All at once his attention was drawn from the closing gap.</p>

<p>"Yeow ! Yeow! Yeow! Y-e-o-w!"</p>

<p>A series of shrill, blood curdling yells from out the pall of
smoke and flame at the rear, bombarded his ears.</p>

<p>At first he thought it was Indians; then the improbability of
this being the case came to him.</p>

<p>"Yeow! Yeow! Yeow!" persisted the voice behind, and it was
coming nearer every second.</p>

<p>Tad slackened the speed of his pony ever so little, despite
the peril of his position.</p>

<p>"There's somebody in there behind me, and, he'll never get out
alive if he loses his way."</p>

<p>The moment this thought occurred to him, Tad began to yell at
the top of his voice.</p>

<p>Suddenly from out the thick veil of smoke burst a pony with a
mighty snort, coming on in bounds, each one of which cleared many
feet of ground. On the pony's back was Stacy Brown, hatless,
coatless, his hair standing up in the breeze, his face as red as
if it had come in actual contact with the flames.</p>

<p>"Yeow!" he roared, as his pony shot past Tad as if the
latter's mount were standing still. Where Stacy had come from,
how he had passed through that wall of flame, Tad had not the
slightest idea.</p>

<p>As a matter of fact the explanation was simple enough. The
guide had sent Chunky out to assist Tad in bringing in the
rip-rapping material. Stacy had made a detour from the camp,
having gotten just inside the danger zone when the fire broke
out. Guided by the butte where he knew his companion must be,
Stacy headed for that point. There he came upon Tad's trail, and
began yelling to attract his attention. He had heard Tad's
answering cry, and this inspired the fat boy to renewed
efforts.</p>

<p>Stacy, now that he had passed Tad, slowed up ever so little.
He had passed his companion so swiftly that he was unable to
determine whether or not Tad were in distress.</p>

<p>The latter came up, overhauling Stacy in a few moments. Both
ponies were steaming from the terrific gruelling they were giving
themselves.</p>

<p>"What you doing here?" exploded Tad.</p>

<p>"Same thing you are."</p>

<p>"What do you mean?"</p>

<p>"Trying to save myself from being burned alive&mdash;"</p>

<p>"Don't slow up! Don't slow up!" shouted Tad. "Keep going!"</p>

<p>"I am. Wat's matter with you?"</p>

<p>"I don't see what you had to come tumbling into this mess
for," objected Tad.</p>

<p>"Didn't tumble in. Rode in. Came to help you&mdash;"</p>

<p>"Precious lot of help you'll be to me. Lucky if we're not both
burned with our boots on. See! The flame's narrowing in on us.
More steam, Chunky! More steam!" urged Tad.</p>

<p>"Can't. Blow up the boiler if I do," Stacy could not be other
than humorous, even under their present trying situation.</p>

<p>"That's better than burning out your fires, and it's quicker
too&mdash;"</p>

<p>All at once, Chunky uttered a terrible howl. His pony had
stepped into a hole and gone down floundering in the long grass,
Chunky himself having been hurled over the animal's head, landing
several feet in advance.</p>

<p>"Help! Help!"</p>

<p>The rest was lost as the fat boy's face plowed the earth
filling mouth, eyes and nostrils.</p>

<p>Tad did not lose his presence of mind, though events had been
following each other in such quick succession.</p>

<p>Changing the reins to his right hand and bunching them there,
he grasped the pommel of the saddle, driving his own pony
straight at the kicking, floundering Chunky.</p>

<p>The pony swerved ever so little, Tad's body swept down, and
when it rose, his fingers were fastened in the shirt collar of
his companion, with Chunky yelling and choking, as he was being
dragged over the ground at almost a killing pace.</p>

<p>Tad had no time to do more than hold on to his friend. He
dared not stop to lift him to the saddle just then. The flames
were roaring behind them and on either side, leaving a long,
narrow lane ahead, through which lay their only hope of
safety.</p>

<p>"Buck up! Buck up, Chunky!" shouted Tad, himself taking a
fresh brace in the stirrups, for the weight of the fat boy's
dragging body was slowly pulling Tad from the saddle.</p>

<p>Stacy was howling like an Indian, not from fear, but from
anger at the rough usage to which he was being subjected. He did
not stop to think that it was the only way his life might be
saved&mdash;nor that his own pony lay back there in the bunch
grass amid the flame and smoke.</p>

<p>Tad knew it.</p>

<p>Now, by a mighty effort Tad righted himself again, and,
leaning forward, threw one arm about the pony's neck, trusting to
the animal to follow the outward trail to safety of its own
accord.</p>

<p>Tad felt a sudden jolt that nearly caused him to slide from
his pony on the side opposite Chunky. At the same time, the
strain on the lad's arm was suddenly released.</p>

<p>Tad was up on his saddle like a flash. His right hand held the
fat boy's shirt, while a series of howls to the rear told him
where the owner of the shirt lay.</p>

<p>Tad groaned. Pulling his pony fairly back on its haunches, he
dashed back where Stacy lay kicking, entangling himself deeper
and deeper in the bunch grass.</p>

<p>Had Tad not had presence of mind they both might have perished
right there. He was off like a flash. With supreme strength, he
grasped the body of his fallen companion, raising him into the
saddle.</p>

<p>"Hold on!" he shouted. "Don't you dare fall off!"</p>

<p>Stacy clung like a monkey to a pony in a circus race.</p>

<p>"Y-i-i-p!" trilled Tad. He had no time to mount. Already he
could feel the hot breath of the flames on his cheek.</p>

<p>The broncho was off with a bound.</p>

<p>"Tad! Tad!" cried Chunky in sudden alarm, now realizing that
he was alone. "Whe&mdash;where are you?"</p>

<p>"H-h-h-h-e-r-e!"</p>

<p>"W-w-where?"</p>

<p>"H-h-h-holding to the b-r-r-oncho's t-tail."</p>

<p>"Wow!" howled Stacy, as, turning in the saddle, he discovered
his companion being fairly jerked through the air, holding fast
to the pony's tail, the lad's feet hardly touching the ground at
all. The broncho, that ordinarily would have resented such
treatment, too fully occupied in saving his own life from the
flames, gave no heed to the weight he was dragging, and it is
doubtful if he even realized there was any additional weight
there.</p>

<p>With a final, desperate leap, the broncho shot out ahead of
the narrowing lane. Like the jaws of some great monster, the two
lapping lines of fire closed in behind them, roaring as if with
deadly rage.</p>

<p>The pony dashed out into a broad, open water course, whose
dry, glistening sands would prove an effectual barrier to the
prairie fire.</p>

<p>Tad, though everything was swimming before his eyes, realized
quickly that they were now well out of danger.</p>

<p>"St-t-t-top him. I c-c-c-an't let go if you d-d-don't."</p>

<p>"Whoa! Whoa! Don't you know enough to quit when you're
through?" chided Chunky, tugging at the reins. The broncho
carried them some distance before the lad was able to pull him
down. Finally he did so.</p>

<p>"Leggo!" he shouted, at the same time whirling the pony
sharply about, fairly "cracking the whip" with Tad Butler.</p>

<p>Chunky's clever foresight probably saved Tad Butler's life,
for, instantly the pony found itself free, it began bucking and
kicking in a circle, kicking a ring all round the compass before
it finally decided to settle down on all fours. Finishing, it
meekly lowered its nose to the ground and now, as docile as a,
kitten after having supped on warm milk, began dozing, the steam
rising in a cloud from its sides.</p>

<p>"Well, of all the fool fools, you're the champion fool!"
growled Stacy, slipping from the saddle and surveying the broncho
with disapproving eyes. "Hah! I guess we'd been done to a turn by
this if it hadn't been for you, just the same. Hello, Tad!"</p>

<p>Tad had doubled up in a heap where the tail of the broncho had
flung him. He was well-nigh spent, but he smiled back at his
companion, who stood on a slight rise of ground, almost a heroic
figure.</p>

<p>Chunky's shirt was entirely missing, his skin red from the
heat, ridged with scratches where he had come in violent contact
with cactus plants, his hair tousled and gray with dust.</p>

<p>"Well you are a sight," grinned Tad.</p>

<p>"You wouldn't take a prize at a baby show yourself," retorted
Stacy, spicily.</p>

<p>Tad's clothes were torn, and his limbs were black and blue all
the way down where the hoofs of the broncho had raked them again
and again.</p>

<p>"My arms feel a foot longer than they did. What are you
looking at?"</p>

<p>Stacy's eyes grew large and luminous as he gazed off over the
plains.</p>

<p>"Look! Look, Tad!" he whispered.</p>

<h3>CHAPTER XIII</h3>

<h4>FOLLOWING A HOT TRAIL</h4>

<p>"Fire! Fire!" cried Professor Zepplin, leaping up from where
he had been leaning over, watching the water bubbling in the
bottom of the excavation they had made.</p>

<p>The guide had been hanging over the hole, dipping water to
Ned, who was turning it into the water-bags.</p>

<p>"Where, where?" demanded Mr. Kringle explosively. He also
sprang to his feet. "It's a prairie fire!"</p>

<p>"The boys are caught. They'll perish!" exclaimed Professor
Zepplin, with blanching face. "Go to them, go to them, Mr.
Kringle!" he begged.</p>

<p>"No living thing could get through that wall of fire,
Professor," announced the guide impressively. "We'll shout and
perhaps, if alive, they'll bear us."</p>

<p>They did so, with the result already known.</p>

<p>"Which direction did Master Stacy take?" Mr. Kringle
asked.</p>

<p>"I saw him riding down that way," replied Walter, pointing
excitedly.</p>

<p>"Then, perhaps he is safe outside of the fire zone. Some of
you hurry back to the camp, The stock may take fright and
stampede. No, we'll all go. The wind may shift at any moment, and
while I do not think the flames could reach the camp, all our
animals might be suffocated, even if they did not succeed in
getting away."</p>

<p>"But you're not going to desert Tad and Chunky, are you?"
demanded Walter indignantly.</p>

<p>"Certainly not. What can we do here? We must get the ponies
first; then we'll hurry to them. I'm afraid they've been caught,"
answered the guide.</p>

<p>"If there's any way of escape you may depend upon it that
Master Tad has discovered that way," answered the Professor. "He
is a resourceful boy, and&mdash;"</p>

<p>But the rest were already dashing madly toward the camp and
Professor Zepplin began to do so with all speed to catch up with
them. The hot breath of the prairie fire had brought the color to
his blanched cheeks.</p>

<p>"How&mdash;how do you think the fire started?" stammered the
Professor, when he at last came up with the guide.</p>

<p>"It was set afire," answered Kris Kringle grimly.</p>

<p>"Set!" shouted the Professor and the two boys all in one
breath.</p>

<p>"Yes."</p>

<p>"By whom?"</p>

<p>"That remains to be seen."</p>

<p>"Do you mean that one of the boys was imprudent enough to
build a fire in that grass? Surely they would not have been so
foolish as to do a thing like that."</p>

<p>"As I said, that remains to be seen. The first thing to be
done is to get to them as quickly as possible, though I don't
know that we can do any good. They're either out of it, by this
time, or else they're not," added Mr. Kringle suggestively.
"Professor, I wish you and one of the boys would get out your
rifles, mount your ponies and watch the camp, while two of us go
in search of the lost ones."</p>

<p>"Watch the camp?"</p>

<p>"Yes."</p>

<p>"For what reason?"</p>

<p>"Merely as a precaution."</p>

<p>"I'll attend to that. I want all of you to get after Tad and
Stacy. We don't care about the camp particularly, when compared
with two human lives."</p>

<p>The smoke was rolling over them in such dense clouds that the
camp was wholly obscured from view until they were upon it.</p>

<p>"Quick! Get the horses before they break away!" commanded the
guide.</p>

<p>"I can't find them!" shouted Ned, who had bounded on ahead and
disappeared in the great suffocating cloud.</p>

<p>Walter was only a few steps behind him, both boys groping,
blinking and coughing as the smoke got into eyes and lungs.</p>

<p>"Lie down when it gets stronger than you can stand. There's
always a current of fresh air near the ground," called the
guide.</p>

<p>Both lads adopted his suggestion instantly, and they were none
too soon, for already they were getting dizzy. After a few long
breaths, they were up, groping about once more in search of the
stock.</p>

<p>"Over to you right," called the Professor.</p>

<p>"We've been there. They're not there at all," answered
Ned.</p>

<p>By this time the guide had dived into the cloud.</p>

<p>"The stock has gone," they heard him shoat.</p>

<p>"Have they stampeded?" roared the Professor.</p>

<p>"I don't know. I'll find out in a minute."</p>

<p>"Queer that this smoke blows two ways at once," said
Walter.</p>

<p>"There is a slight breeze blowing this way," explained Ned.
"Not enough, however, to turn the fire back. It has got too good
a start."</p>

<p>Suddenly a weird "c-o-o-e-e" sounded to the right of them.</p>

<p>"What's that?"</p>

<p>"It's the guide, Walt. He's trying to call the boys, to see if
they are alive," explained Ned.</p>

<p>"I don't think so. That cry is for some other purpose. I'm
going over where he is to find out what it does mean. Come
on."</p>

<p>Together the lads ran as fast as they could in the direction
from which the guide's voice had come.</p>

<p>They found him with hands shaped into a megaphone, uttering
his shrill cries. He made no answer to their questions as to what
he was trying to do.</p>

<p>All at once off in the cloud they heard rapid hoofbeats. The
boys glanced at each other in surprise.</p>

<p>"It's the ponies returning," breathed Walter Perkins.</p>

<p>Ned shook his head.</p>

<p>The cries now took on a more insistent tone, and a moment
later two ponies came whinnying into the camp, snorting with
fear. Kris Kringle spoke to them sharply, whereupon they came
trotting up to him with every evidence of pleasure.</p>

<p>The lads were amazed.</p>

<p>"Can you boys shoot a rope?"</p>

<p>"Yes," they answered together.</p>

<p>"Which one is the better at it?"</p>

<p>"Ned is more expert than I am."</p>

<p>"Take one of my ponies. We've got to go after the stock. Rope
and bring them in as fast as possible. It's getting late, and it
will be dark before we know it. There's not more than two hours
of daylight left."</p>

<p>"I can take my pony and help," began Walter.</p>

<p>"You haven't any pony. They're all gone."</p>

<p>Ned and the guide dashed from the camp at break-neck speed.
Emerging from the dust cloud they saw some of the stock far off
on the plain.</p>

<p>"There they are!" cried Ned</p>

<p>"Thank goodness, they're all together. And they are not
running. We've got them bunched."</p>

<p>"Were they afraid of the smoke? What made them break
away?"</p>

<p>"They didn't break away."</p>

<p>"What?"</p>

<p>"Their tethers were cut and they were sent adrift," answered
the guide grimly;</p>

<p>Ned was speechless with surprise.</p>

<p>Some of the ponies, objecting to being roped, ran away,
necessitating a lively chase. Kris Kringle worked with the
precision of an automatic gun and with proportionate speed. In
half an hour they had roped all the ponies, and, with the burros
trailing along behind, started back to camp as rapidly as
possible.</p>

<p>A heavy pall of smoke still hung over the camp and all the
surrounding country.</p>

<p>Once more they staked down the ponies and pack animals, and
urging vigilance on the part of Professor Zepplin, Ned and the
guide dashed away at full gallop in search of the two missing
lads.</p>

<p>"Are we going through the fire?" questioned Ned
apprehensively.</p>

<p>"We're going to try it. The worst of it must have passed
before this, but we may have to turn back or turn out for spots.
It's the shortest way, and the only course to follow if we want
to know what has become of them."</p>

<p>Spreading out a little they continued on their way, the ponies
snorting, threatening to whirl about and race back into the open
plain. The ground was like a furnace and the grass smouldered
beneath them, heating their feet and singeing their fetlocks.</p>

<p>Suddenly Ned's pony reared into the air, bucked and hurled its
rider far over into the smouldering bunch grass.</p>

<p>Ned uttered a yell of warning as he felt himself going.</p>

<p>The guide wheeled like a flash. Ned's mount had whirled and
was away like a shot. But the guide was after him with even
greater speed. The chase came to an abrupt ending some few rods
farther on, when Kris Kringle's lariat squirmed out, bringing the
fleeing pony to the ground with its nose in the hot dust.</p>

<p>Without dismounting, the guide turned his own mount, and
fairly dragging the unwilling pony behind him, pounded back to
the place where Ned had been unhorsed.</p>

<p>"Grab him!" commanded the guide to Ned, who had quickly
scrambled to his feet. "What was it that he saw?"</p>

<p>"I don't know. Guess he made up his mind to go back."</p>

<p>"No; he saw something. Hang on to him and cover the ground all
about you till you find it."</p>

<p>"Wha&mdash;what do you&mdash;"</p>

<p>"Never mind. Look!"</p>

<p>"Here! Here it is!" cried Ned aghast.</p>

<p>The guide was at his side instantly.</p>

<p>"It's a pony," gasped the Pony Rider boy.</p>

<p>Kris Kringle was off his own mount instantly, and bidding Ned
hold the animal, he made a brief examination of the fallen horse,
after which he darted here and there, unheeding the fact that the
still burning grass was blistering his feet through the heavy
soles of his boots.</p>

<p>For several rods Kringle ran along the faint trail that Tad
and Stacy had left, or rather, that the fire had left after
passing over it.</p>

<p>"They beat their way out here. We may find them later. Come
on!"</p>

<p>Again Ned and the guide dashed away, both keeping their gaze
on the smoking prairie about them. The smoke now was almost more
than they could bear.</p>

<p>"Do&mdash;do you think they are alive?" asked Ned
unsteadily.</p>

<p>"So far. If they are not, it's not their fault. The Professor
is right. Those boys have pluck enough to pull them through, but
sometimes pluck alone will not do it. A prairie fire is no
respecter of pluck."</p>

<p>They burst out into an open space. There were no signs of
either of the missing boys.</p>

<p>"Something has happened to them. We must have missed them,"
announced the guide.</p>

<h3>CHAPTER XIV</h3>

<h4>AGAINST BIG ODDS</h4>

<p>"What is it, Chunky?"</p>

<p>"There!"</p>

<p>Tad jerked his companion flat on the ground, flattening
himself beside Stacy at the same instant.</p>

<p>What had caused their sudden alarm was the sight of two
Indians, sitting on their ponies without saddles, some distance
out on the open plain. The redskins were wrapped in their
brightly colored blankets, which enveloped them from head to
knees. Even the hands were invisible beneath the folds of the
blankets.</p>

<p>"D-d-do you think they saw us, Tad?"</p>

<p>"I don't know. It's safe to say they did. Indian eyes don't
miss very much. You ought to know that, by this time. I wish we
could make that pony lie down."</p>

<p>"Why don't you?"</p>

<p>"He's too afraid of the ground&mdash;thinks it's still hot,
and I don't blame him. The fire has singed him pretty well as it
is.</p>

<p>The Indians sat their mounts as motionless as statues, the
ponies headed directly toward where the two lads were lying.</p>

<p>"I'll bet they're got guns under those blankets," decided Tad.
"You can't trust an Indian even while you are looking at
him."</p>

<p>"Anybody'd think you'd been hunting Indians all your life,"
growled Stacy.</p>

<p>"They've been hunting me mostly," grinned Tad.</p>

<p>"And usually caught you," added Chunky.</p>

<p>"I don't like this lying here as if we were scared of
them."</p>

<p>"But, what else can we do, Tad?"</p>

<p>"I don't know."</p>

<p>"Neither do I. Wish I had a shirt. I'll spoil my complexion
clear down to my waist. Resides, I'm not fit to be seen."</p>

<p>"You're lucky to be alive," growled Tad. "I'm going to get out
of this."</p>

<p>"How?"</p>

<p>"Listen, and you'll know. I'm going to get on the pony; then,
as soon as I'm in the saddle, you jump up behind me and we'll
start back to camp."</p>

<p>"Not&mdash;not through that fire?" protested Stacy.</p>

<p>"No; I don't dare try it. I'm afraid we'd get lost in the
smoke and perhaps get burned as well. We'll ride out some
distance, then turn to the left and try to go around the burned
district."</p>

<p>"What if the Indians chase us?"</p>

<p>"I don't believe they will. They'll hardly dare do that. And,
besides, these may be friendly Indians."</p>

<p>"Huh!" grunted Stacy. "They look it."</p>

<p>Tad got up boldly, and without even looking toward the silent
red men, began fussing about his saddle, cinching the girths, and
straightening the saddle. His last act before mounting was to see
that the coils of his lariat were in order.</p>

<p>"All right," announced the lad, vaulting into the saddle.</p>

<p>Stacy scrambled up behind him without loss of time, and they
rode out into the open, the fat boy peering apprehensively over
his companion's shoulder.</p>

<p>"You keep watch of them, Chunky, but don't let them see you
doing it. I won't look at them at all. We don't want them to
think we're afraid."</p>

<p>Stacy fidgeted.</p>

<p>"You bet I'll watch 'em. Wish I had my rifle."</p>

<p>"I don't."</p>

<p>"Huh!"</p>

<p>"You have distinguished yourself quite enough with that rifle
as it is. We don't want any more of your fancy shooting."</p>

<p>"There they go," warned Stacy.</p>

<p>"I see them." Tad had been cautiously observing the horsemen
out of the corners of his eyes. "Moving in the same direction we
are. I don't like the looks of it. Still, if they don't get any
nearer we may be thankful."</p>

<p>The pony carrying the boys was walking easily, and the mounts
of the Indians were doing the same.</p>

<p>"Jog a little," suggested Stacy.</p>

<p>"That's a good idea. It will tell us quickly whether they are
trying to keep up with us."</p>

<p>He touched the pony lightly with his spurs. The little animal
switched its tail, for its sides were tender, and started
off.</p>

<p>"There they go, Tad! Jogging the same gait as ours!"</p>

<p>Tad's face took on the stubborn look it always wore when he
had determined upon a certain course of action.</p>

<p>"I'll beat them yet, even if there are only two of them. I
wish there weren't two of us on this nag."</p>

<p>"I'll get off and walk," suggested. Stacy.</p>

<p>"You'll do nothing of the sort. That would be a nice thing to
do, wouldn't it? They'd round you up quicker'n they could a lame
burro."</p>

<p>"Say, Tad."</p>

<p>"What?"</p>

<p>"I've got an idea."</p>

<p>"What is it?"</p>

<p>"You know that sage hen we had?"</p>

<p>"Yes, what's that got to do with our present predicament?"</p>

<p>"I was wondering why there aren't any sage roosters?"</p>

<p>"You'll be a sage rooster, with your head off, first thing you
know," snapped Tad in disgust. "Can't you be serious for a
minute? Don't you see we are in a fix?"</p>

<p>"Uh-huh!"</p>

<p>"There, that fellow is trying to head us off."</p>

<p>One of the Indians had shot away from his companion, running
obliquely toward the point to which Tad was headed.</p>

<p>The red man had gotten quite a start before the boys caught
the significance of his manoeuvre.</p>

<p>Tad dug in the spurs.</p>

<p>At that instant the fat boy's hands had been removed from Tad,
to whose body they had been clinging.</p>

<p>The pony leaped forward, and Stacy slid over its rump, hitting
the ground with a jolt that jarred him.</p>

<p>"Wow!" howled Stacy.</p>

<p>Tad, instantly divining what had happened, pulled up sharply;
wheeled and raced back to where his companion was still
complaining loudly and rubbing his body.</p>

<p>"Get up!" roared Tad, leaning over and grasping Stacy by the
hair of his head.</p>

<p>The fat boy was jerked sharply to his feet.</p>

<p>"Quick! Quick, climb up here!"</p>

<p>With the help of his companion, the lad scrambled up behind
Tad again, muttering and rubbing himself.</p>

<p>By this time the leading horseman had wholly outdistanced
them, and his pony was now loping along easily, while the second
Indian appeared to be riding directly toward them, at right
angles to the direction in which they were traveling.</p>

<p>All at once the two Indians began riding about the boys in a
circle, uttering short little "yips," intended to terrify the
lads, but not loud enough to be heard any great distance
away.</p>

<p>"Hang on! We're going to ride for keeps now!" warned Tad.</p>

<p>The fat boy threw both arms about his companion's waist as the
pony let out into a swift run. At first Tad thought he had gotten
safely out of the circle, only to discover that they had headed
him again.</p>

<p>The circle was narrowing, and the Indians were gradually
drawing in on them.</p>

<p>Stacy's eyes were growing larger every minute, perhaps more
from astonishment than from fear. Then, too, he could not but
admire the riding of their pursuers. Even the blankets of the
Indians appeared not to be disturbed in the least by their rapid
riding, the horsemen sitting a little sideways on the ponies'
backs, the reins bunched loosely in their left bands.</p>

<p>"They've got us, Tad."</p>

<p>"They shan't get us!" retorted Tad stubbornly. "If they don't
use their guns&mdash;and I don't believe they will&mdash;we'll
beat them yet."</p>

<p>If Stacy was doubtful he did not say so.</p>

<p>"If they get close to us, you be ready to let go of me when I
give the word," cautioned Tad.</p>

<p>"What for? What you going to do?"</p>

<p>"I don't know yet. That depends upon circumstances. I'm not
going to let them have it all their own way while I've got a pony
under me. We may get help any minute, too, so the longer we can
put off a clash the better it will be for us."</p>

<p>"Who you mean&mdash;Santa Claus?"</p>

<p>"Yes."</p>

<p>"They're closing in now," said Stacy.</p>

<p>"Take your hands away from my waist."</p>

<p>"But I'll fall off, Tad."</p>

<p>"Slip one hand through under my belt and take hold of the
cantle with the other. Sit as low as you can so as not to get in
my way."</p>

<p>Stacy obeyed his companion's directions without further
comment, but he was all curiosity to know what was going to
happen next.</p>

<p>The Indians were drawing nearer every second now. The boys
could see the expressions on their evil faces, intensified by the
streaks of yellow and red paint.</p>

<p>"They look as though they'd stuck their heads in a paint
pail," was Chunky's muttered comment.</p>

<p>The blankets fell away from the racing savages, flapped on the
rumps of the bobbing ponies for a few seconds and then slipped to
the ground.</p>

<p>A rifle was reposing in each man's holster, as Tad observed
instantly. He was thankful to note that the guns were not in the
hands of the Indians.</p>

<p>The lad's right hand had dropped carelessly to the saddle
horn, the fingers cautiously gathering in the coils of the lariat
that hung there. The red men did not appear to have observed his
act.</p>

<p>"Lie low!" commanded Tad, scarcely above a whisper.</p>

<p>Stacy settled down slowly so as not to attract attention.</p>

<p>One horseman shot directly across Tad's course, striking the
lad's pony full in the face as he did so, and causing the animal
to brace himself so suddenly as to nearly unseat both boys.</p>

<p>Tad's rope was in the air in a twinkling.</p>

<p>A warning shout from the second Indian, who was just to the
rear of them, came too late. The rope shot true to its mark and
the first savage, with back half-turned, had failed to observe it
coming.</p>

<p>The great loop dropped over his head. The pony braced itself
and Tad took a quick turn of the rope about the pommel of his
saddle.</p>

<p>The result was instantaneous. The Indian was catapulted from
his saddle with arms pinioned to his aide.</p>

<p>"Ye-ow!" howled Chunky; unable to restrain his enthusiasm.</p>

<p>Tad did not even hear him.</p>

<p>"Look out! Here comes the other one!" warned the fat boy.</p>

<p>But Tad was too busily engaged in keeping the line taut about
the roped Indian. The fellow was struggling on the ground,
fighting to free himself, while the boy with the rope was
manoeuvring his pony in a series of lightning-like movements that
made the fat boy's head swim.</p>

<p>"Take care of him, Chunky!! I can't," gasped Tad.</p>

<p>Stacy's eyes took on a belligerent expression as the second
savage bore down upon them, with knees gripped tightly against
the side of his pony, half raising himself above the animal's
back, reins dropped on the pony's neck. The Indian was guiding
his mount by the pressure of legs and knees alone.</p>

<p>The angry redskin was making futile attempts to get into a
position where he might grab the active Tad. He did not seem to
take into account the cringing figure behind the boy who had
roped the other Indian.</p>

<p>All at once, at the opportune moment, his pony forging ahead,
the Indian's hand shot out. The red, bony fingers were closing
upon Tad Butler's right shoulder, when all at once something
happened.</p>

<p>The cringing fat boy rose. The right hand that had been
clinging to the cantle was launched out. His body, thrown forward
at the same time, lent the blow added force.</p>

<p>Chunky's fist came into violent contact with the Indian's jaw.
Mr. Redman disappeared from the back of his pony so quickly that,
for a second, Stacy could scarcely believe his eyes.</p>

<p>"Y-e-o-w! W-o-w!" howled the fat boy. "Beat it for the tall
grass, Tad!"</p>

<p>A quick glance behind him, revealed the true state of affairs
to Tad Butler. He dug in the spurs, clinging to the lariat for a
few feet, then suddenly releasing it, as the pony leaped away
under the stinging pressure of the spurs.</p>

<p>"Duck! Duck! They're going to shoot!" shouted Tad.</p>

<h3>CHAPTER XV</h3>

<h4>HIT BY A DRY STORM</h4>

<p>"There it goes! Lower, Chunky!"</p>

<p>A rifle had crashed somewhere to the left of them.</p>

<p>Stacy's curiosity getting the better of him, he had twisted
his body around, and was peering back; but he was bobbing up and
down so fast that he found it difficult to fix his eyes on any
one point long enough to distinguish what that object was.</p>

<p>"Look! Look!" he cried, when in a long rise of the pony his
eyes had caught something definite.</p>

<p>The roped Indian was running for his pony, which he caught,
leaping to its back and dashing away madly.</p>

<p>"Hold up! Hold up! There's something doing," shouted the fat,
boy.</p>

<p>Tad swerved a little, turning to his left. Rifles were
banging, and the dust was spurting up under the feet of the
savage's racing pony.</p>

<p>By this time, the second Indian had recovered from the blow
that Stacy had landed on his jaw, and he too was in his saddle in
a twinkling, tearing madly cross the plain.</p>

<p>Stacy Brown uttered a series of wild whoops and yells. He knew
their assailants were running and that some one was shooting at
the Indians, but who it was the fat boy could only guess.</p>

<p>Two ponies suddenly dashed out from the low-lying smoke cloud.
One of their riders was swinging his sombrero and cheering; the
other was firing his rifle after the fleeing savages.</p>

<p>"Hooray, it's Santa Claus," howled Stacy, fairly beside
himself with excitement. Even Tad caught something of his
companion's spirit of enthusiasm. He swung his hand and started
galloping toward the two horsemen.</p>

<p>"Shoot 'em! Kill 'em!" howled Chunky.</p>

<p>But Santa Claus merely shook his head, and after refilling the
magazine of his rifle slipped it into the holster.</p>

<p>"It would only make trouble and probably cause an uprising if
I did. They know I could have winged them both had I wanted to,"
he grinned. "Well, you boys are a sight."</p>

<p>"I&mdash;I lost my shirt," interjected Stacy.</p>

<p>"And I suppose you fell in," chuckled Ned.</p>

<p>"No; I fell off."</p>

<p>"We're lucky to be alive," laughed Tad.</p>

<p>"You are that. I see now that Professor Zepplin was right when
he said you could take care of yourself. Never saw anything quite
so slick as the way you roped that redskin&mdash;"</p>

<p>"And&mdash;and I punched the other one," glowed Chunky.</p>

<p>"Did you see us?" questioned Tad.</p>

<p>"Yes, we saw the whole proceeding. But you were so mixed up
that we couldn't fire without danger of hitting one of you boys.
Wonder what those Apaches think struck them," laughed the guide.
"How did you get through the fire?"</p>

<p>Tad explained briefly; at the same time accounting for the
loss of Stacy's shirt.</p>

<p>"I bet that the fellow with the canary-wing face has a sore
jaw," bubbled Stacy.</p>

<p>"No doubt of it, Master Stacy. I didn't suppose you had such a
punch as that. You're a good Indian fighter."</p>

<p>"Always was," answered the fat boy, swelling with
importance.</p>

<p>"Come, we'll have to hurry back It will be dark before we
reach camp, as it is, and the Professor will be worrying about
you."</p>

<p>They turned about, and, heading across the burned area,
started for camp. Fitful blazes were springing up here and there,
but all danger had, by this time, passed, though the smoke still
hung heavy and the odor of burned vegetation smote the nostrils
unpleasantly.</p>

<p>Stacy sniffed the air suspiciously.</p>

<p>"Tastes like a drug store fire I smelled once in Chillicothe,"
he averred.</p>

<p>"I haven't made up my mind, yet, how that fire started, Mr.
Kringle," wondered Tad.</p>

<p>"I have," replied the guide tersely.</p>

<p>"How?"</p>

<p>"It was set afire!"</p>

<p>"By whom?"</p>

<p>"By one of those savages, or by somebody who was with them.
They must have been watching you all the time. Did you recognize
either of them as the fellow you knocked down the other
might?"</p>

<p>"No; I don't think I would know the Indian. The light was too
uncertain at the fire dance, and then again, all Indians look
alike to me."</p>

<p>"It was a narrow escape."</p>

<p>"Do you think they'll come back again?" questioned Ned.</p>

<p>"I doubt it. They won't if they recognized me. They know me.
They've done business with me before."</p>

<p>Professor Zepplin and Walter were overjoyed when at last the
party rode into camp and they learned that both boys were safe.
The lads were obliged to go all over their experiences again for
the benefit of the Professor and Walter.</p>

<p>"It's getting worse and worse," decided the Professor
helplessly. "I don't know where all this is going to end. I
thought when we got a new guide&mdash;but what's the use? Do you
think we had better start to-night, Mr. Kringle?"</p>

<p>"No. There is no necessity."</p>

<p>"What am I going to do for a pony?" asked Chunky.</p>

<p>"You can ride one of mine. I always take two when on a long
journey," replied the guide.</p>

<p>Chunky's first act after reaching camp, was to provide himself
with a shirt. After donning it, he announced that he had an
appetite and wanted to know when they were going to have
supper.</p>

<p>"Why, you had supper hours ago," scoffed Ned. "Want another
one already?"</p>

<p>"That wasn't supper, that was four o'clock tea. Indian
fighters must have real food."</p>

<p>"Stop teasing. We'll give the 'ittle baby his milk," returned
Ned.</p>

<p>That night, Kris Kringle remained on guard himself. He would
not trust the guardianship of the camp to any of the boys, for he
fully expected that they would receive a visit from one or more
of the Indians, though he did not tell the others so. But nothing
occurred to disturb the camp, and the boys, despite their trying
experiences, slept soundly, awakening in the morning fresh and
active, ready and anxious for any further adventures.</p>

<p>The party set out shortly after sunrise, and traveled all day
across the uneven plains, across short mountain ranges, through
deep gorges and rugged foothills.</p>

<p>Crossing an open space the guide espied a bottle glistening in
the sunlight.</p>

<p>"There's a bottle," pointed the guide. "Want it?"</p>

<p>Stacy glanced at it indifferently;</p>

<p>"What do I want of a bottle?"</p>

<p>"Then I'll take it," decided the guide, dismounting and
stowing the abandoned piece of glass in his saddle bags.</p>

<p>"Bottles are good for only two things."</p>

<p>"And what are they, Master Stacy?" questioned the
Professor.</p>

<p>"To keep things in and to shoot at," replied the fat boy
wisely.</p>

<p>Everybody laughed at that.</p>

<p>"I guess that embodies everything you can say about bottles,"
smiled the Professor. "Your logic, at times, young man, is
unassailable."</p>

<p>Chunky nodded. He had a faint idea of what Professor Zepplin
meant.</p>

<p>Late that afternoon the travelers came upon a shack in the
foothills, where an old rancher, a hermit, lived when not tending
his little flock of sheep, most of which, Kris Kringle said, the
old man had stolen from droves that came up over the trail going
north.</p>

<p>He was an interesting old character, this hermit, and the boys
decided that they would like to make camp and have him take
supper with them. This the Professor and the guide readily agreed
to, for everyone was hot and dusty and the bronchos were nervous
and ill-natured.</p>

<p>The boys found the old rancher talkative enough on all
subjects save himself. When Chunky asked him where he came from,
and what for, the old man's face flushed angrily.</p>

<p>At the first opportunity the guide took the fat boy aside for
some fatherly advice.</p>

<p>"In this country it isn't good policy to be too curious about
a man's family affairs. He's likely to resent it in a way you
won't like. Most fellows out here have reasons for being out of
the world, beyond what's apparent on the surface."</p>

<p>Chunky heeded the advice and asked no more personal questions
for the next hour, though he did forget himself before the
evening was ended.</p>

<p>"You seem to be having pretty dry weather down here," said the
Professor, by way of starting the old man to talking.</p>

<p>"Yep. Haven't had any rain in this belt fer the last two
years."</p>

<p>"Two years!" exclaimed the boys.</p>

<p>"Yep. Had a few light dews, but that's all," replied the
hermit.</p>

<p>"Looks to me as if you were going to get some to-night,"
announced Tad.</p>

<p>"Reckon not."</p>

<p>"Then I'm no judge of weather."</p>

<p>Even as Tad spoke there was a low muttering of thunder, and
the far lightning flashed pale and green, and rose on the long
horizon to the southwest.</p>

<p>Kris Kringle heard the far away growl. Springing up, he began
staking down the tents.</p>

<p>"That's a good idea. We lost our whole outfit on our last
trip. Think they'll stand a blow?"</p>

<p>"I guess they will when I get through with them. Have we any
more stakes in camp?"</p>

<p>"There should be some in the kit."</p>

<p>Tad searched until he found several more stakes, and with
these and the emergency ropes, they made the tents secure.</p>

<p>By the time they had done so, the heavens had grown black and
menacing. They could see the storm sweeping down on them. It was
a magnificent sight, and the lads were so lost in observing its
grandeur that they forgot to feel any alarm.</p>

<p>A cloud of dust accompanied the advance guard of the
storm.</p>

<p>"Reckon there ain't any rain in them clouds," commented the
old man. "There's plenty of the other thing, though."</p>

<p>"What's the other thing?" questioned Chunky.</p>

<p>"Lightning."</p>

<p>Even as he spoke a bolt descended right in the center of the
camp, tearing a hole in the earth and hurling a cloud of dirt and
dust many feet up into the air.</p>

<p>The force of the explosion knocked some of the party flat.</p>

<p>Chunky picked himself up and carefully brushed his clothes;
then, solemnly walked out and sat down on the spot where the
lightning had struck.</p>

<p>"Here, here! What are you doing out there?" demanded the
guide.</p>

<p>"Sitting on the lightning."</p>

<p>"You come in here! And quick, at that!"</p>

<p>"Huh! Guess I know what I'm doing. Lightning never strikes
twice in the same place. I'm&mdash;"</p>

<p>By this time Kris Kringle had the fat boy by the collar,
hustling him to the protection of one of the tents.</p>

<p>No sooner had they reached it than a crash that seemed as if
it had split the earth wide open descended upon them. Balls of
fire shot off in every direction. One went right through the tent
where they were huddled, hurling the Pony Rider Boys in a
heap.</p>

<p>They scrambled up calling to each other nervously.</p>

<p>The shock had extinguished the lantern that hung in the tent.
The guide relighted it, and, stepping outside to see what had
happened, pointed to the place where Chunky had been sitting but
a few minutes before.</p>

<p>The bolt had struck in the identical spot where the previous
one had landed.</p>

<p>"Now, young man, there's an object lesson for you," Mr.
Kringle said, with a grim smile.</p>

<p>"And there's another!" replied Chunky, pointing to the outside
of the tent.</p>

<p>There lay the old rancher, whose absence they had not noted.
He had been in the tent with them when they last saw him and how
he had gotten out there none knew. The rancher had been stripped
of every vestige of clothing by the freaky lightning.</p>

<p>"He's dead," crooned Stacy solemnly.</p>

<p>"Get water, quick! He's been struck by lightning!" commanded
the guide, making systematic efforts to bring the old man back to
consciousness.</p>

<p>Stacy ran for the water-bags.</p>

<p>"I am afraid it is useless, Mr. Kringle," warned, the
Professor, failing to find a pulse. The boys were standing about
fanning the victim, having one by one dumped the contents of
their canteens in his face.</p>

<p>Stacy returned with a water-bag after a little.</p>

<p>"I&mdash;I&mdash;I've got an idea," he exploded, as with eyes
wide open he attempted to tell them something.</p>

<p>"Keep still. We've got something else to do besides listening
to your foolishness," chided Ned.</p>

<p>"Chunky, we're trying to save this man's life. Give me that
bag," commanded Tad.</p>

<p>The two older men were working desperately on the patient.
Stacy stood around, fidgeting a little, but making no further
attempt to enlighten them as to what his new idea was.</p>

<p>After a time the rancher began to show signs of recovering. He
gasped a few times then opened his eyes.</p>

<p>"What kicked me?" he asked, with a half-grin.</p>

<p>They could all afford to laugh now, and they did. The rancher
refused their offer of clothes, saying he had another suit in his
shack.</p>

<p>"That's twice the stuff has knocked me out. Next time it'll
git me for keeps," he said.</p>

<p>"Does it strike here very often?" questioned the
Professor.</p>

<p>"Allus."</p>

<p>"Then, there must be some mineral substance in the soil."</p>

<p>"No, ain't nothing like that. Jest contrariness that's all.
Hit my shack once, and 'cause 'twas raining, bored holes in the
roof so the place got all wet inside."</p>

<p>"But it isn't raining now. Doesn't it usually rain when you
have a thunder storm here?" asked the Professor.</p>

<p>"No. Ain't had no rain in nigh onto two year," the hermit
reiterated.</p>

<p>"You'd better go and put on some clothes," suggested Kris
Kringle.</p>

<p>"Guess that's right."</p>

<p>The old man seemed to have forgotten his condition. The others
had wrapped a blanket around him, which seemed to satisfy his
demand for clothes. Gathering up the blanket he strolled
leisurely toward his cabin, undisturbed by his recent
experience.</p>

<p>"Nothing like getting used to it," chuckled Stacy.</p>

<p>"Hello, now we'll hear what your new idea is, Chunky?" jeered
Ned.</p>

<p>"Yes, what is it?" urged Tad.</p>

<p>"Nothing much."</p>

<p>"Never is," cut in Walter Perkins, a little maliciously.</p>

<p>"I&mdash;I got an idea the ponies tried to kick holes in the
lightning."</p>

<p>Everybody laughed loudly. They could well afford to laugh, now
that the danger had passed.</p>

<p>"What makes you think that?" asked the guide, eyeing him
sharply.</p>

<p>"'Cause they're dead!"</p>

<p>"What!" shouted the boys.</p>

<p>All hands dashed from the tent, Stacy regarding them with
soulful eyes, after which he surreptitiously slipped a biscuit
into his pocket and strolled out after them.</p>

<h3>CHAPTER XVI</h3>

<h4>CHUNKY'S NEW IDEA</h4>

<p>Three of the ponies, they found, had been knocked down and so
severely shocked that they were only just beginning to regain
consciousness.</p>

<p>"Why didn't you tell us?" demanded Ned, turning on Stacy
savagely.</p>

<p>"You wouldn't let me. Maybe next time I've got an idea, you'll
stop and listen."</p>

<p>Kris Kringle's face wore a broad grin.</p>

<p>"Master Stacy is right. He tried hard enough to tell us," he
said.</p>

<p>Chunky was humming blithely as the party set out next morning.
He was pretty well satisfied with himself, for had he not been
through a prairie fire, knocked a savage Apache off his horse,
saved himself and his companions, besides having just escaped
from being struck by lightning? Stacy swelled out his chest and
held his chin a little bit higher than usual.</p>

<p>"Chunky's got a swelled head," said Ned, nodding in the
direction of the fat boy.</p>

<p>"Swelled chest, you mean," laughed Walter. "Nobody has a
better right. Chunky isn't half as big a fool as he'd have
everybody believe. When we think we are having lots of fun with
him he's really having sport with us. And those Indians&mdash;
say, Ned, do you think they will bother us any more?"</p>

<p>"Ask Chunky," retorted Ned. "He's the oracle of the
party."</p>

<p>"I will," answered Walter, motioning for Stacy to join them,
which the latter did leisurely. "We want to know if you think
we've seen the last of the Apaches? Will they bother us any
more?"</p>

<p>The fat boy consulted the sky thoughtfully.</p>

<p>"I think there's some of them around now," he replied.</p>

<p>"What?"</p>

<p>Stacy nodded wisely.</p>

<p>"Santa Claus ought to have shot them."</p>

<p>"Why, you cold-blooded savage!" scoffed Ned. "The idea!"</p>

<p>"You'll see. I'd have done it, myself, if I'd had my gun,"
declared Stacy bravely.</p>

<p>"Good thing for you that your gun was in camp, instead of in
your holster."</p>

<p>"Yes; I'd have lost the gun when the pony went down. Poor
pony! Say, Walt," he murmured, leaning over toward his
companion.</p>

<p>"Well, out with it!"</p>

<p>"This pony of Santa Claus's can jump further than a
kangaroo."</p>

<p>"Ever see a kangaroo jump?" sneered Ned.</p>

<p>"No; but I've seen you try to. I'll show you, Walt, when we
get a chance to go out and have a contest."</p>

<p>"That would be good sport, wouldn't it, Ned?"</p>

<p>"What?"</p>

<p>"A jumping contest!"</p>

<p>"If we didn't break our necks."</p>

<p>"Can't break a Pony Rider Boy's neck. They're too tough,"
laughed Walter, to which sentiment, Stacy Brown agreed with a
series of emphatic nods.</p>

<p>"Say, Tad," called Walter, "what do you say to our jumping our
ponies some time to-day?"</p>

<p>Tad grinned appreciatively.</p>

<p>"If the stock isn't too tired when we make camp, I think it
would be great fun. We haven't had any real jumping contests in a
long time."</p>

<p>"Wish we had our stallions here, Tad."</p>

<p>"They're better off at home, Chunky. Altogether too valuable
horses for this kind of work. I'll speak to the guide."</p>

<p>"Well, what is it, young man?" smiled Kris Kringle.</p>

<p>"If you can find a level place for our camp we want to have a
contest this afternoon. Professor, will you join us?"</p>

<p>"What kind of a contest?"</p>

<p>"Jumping."</p>

<p>"No, thank you."</p>

<p>"We will camp in the foothills of the Black range. You will
find plenty of level ground there for your purpose," said the
guide.</p>

<p>In order that they might have more time for their games, an
early halt was called. The first work was to pitch the camp, the
ponies being allowed to graze and rest in the meantime, after
which the lads started out on a broad, open plain for their
sport.</p>

<p>Their shouts of merriment drifted back to the camp where Kris
Kringle and Professor Zepplin were setting things to rights and
preparing an early supper, the sun still being some hours
high.</p>

<p>"That's a great bunch of boys, Professor."</p>

<p>"Great for getting into difficulties."</p>

<p>"And for getting out of them."</p>

<p>"I'll put them against any other four lads in the world for
hunting out trouble," laughed the Professor.</p>

<p>The result of the afternoon's sport was a total of several
spills and numerous black and blue spots on the bodies of the
Pony Rider Boys. Stacy Brown on Kris Kringle's pony, carried off
the honors, having taken a higher jump than did any of his
companions. Then Stacy did it again, after the others had
tried&mdash;and failed to equal the record.</p>

<p>The games being finished, Tad and Walter rode off to get a
closer view of some peculiar rock formations that they had
discovered in the high distance, while Ned and Chunky started
slowly for the camp.</p>

<p>The table had been set out in front of the tents when the fat
boy and his companion came in sight of the camp.</p>

<p>"Whew! but I'm hungry!" announced Stacy Brown.</p>

<p>"But you didn't think of it until you saw the table set, did
you?"</p>

<p>"It wasn't the table, it was the shaking up I got back there
that made me feel full of emptiness."</p>

<p>"Huh!"</p>

<p>"I've got an idea, Ned."</p>

<p>"For goodness' sake, keep it to yourself, then. When you have
an idea it spells trouble for everybody else around you."</p>

<p>"Bet you I can."</p>

<p>"Can what?" snorted Ned.</p>

<p>"Bet you I can jump the dinner table and you can't."</p>

<p>"Bet you can't."</p>

<p>"Bet I can, and without even knocking a fly off the milk
pitcher."</p>

<p>"Go on, you! You try it first, and, if you don't make it, you
lose. I don't have to try it if I don't want to," agreed Ned,
with rare prudence.</p>

<p>Chunky was fairly hugging himself with glee, but he took good
care that Ned Rector did not observe his satisfaction.</p>

<p>"If you don't you're a tenderfoot," taunted Stacy.</p>

<p>"I'll show you who's the tenderfoot. You go ahead and bolt the
dinner, table and all, if you dare. Now, then!"</p>

<p>Stacy gathered up his reins. There was mischief in his eyes,
which were fixed on the table, neatly set for the evening
meal.</p>

<p>"You start right after me. They'll be surprised to see a
procession of ponies going over the table, won't they?"</p>

<p>"Somebody'll be surprised. May not be the Professor and Santa
Claus, though," growled Ned.</p>

<p>Stacy had his own ideas on this question, but he did not
confide them to his companion.</p>

<p>The fat boy clucked to his pony, and the little animal started
off. As they moved along, Stacy used the persuasive spurs
resulting in a sudden burst of speed.</p>

<p>"Come on!" he shouted.</p>

<p>He heard Ned's pony pursuing him.</p>

<p>"Hi-yi-yi-y-e-o-w!" howled the shrill voice of the fat
boy.</p>

<p>Professor Zepplin and Kris Kringle were sitting at opposite
ends of the table, with elbows leaning on it, engaged in earnest
conversation. There had been so much yelling out on the plain
ever since the boys left camp that the older men gave no heed to
this new shout&mdash;did not even turn their eyes in the
direction whence Stacy Brown and his pony were sweeping down on
them at break-neck speed.</p>

<p>Suddenly the two men started back with a sudden exclamation,
as a shadow fell athwart the table and a dark form hurled itself
through the air, while a shrill, "w-h-o-o-p-e-e!" sounded right
over their heads.</p>

<p>The fat boy cleared the table without so much as disturbing
the fly to which he had referred when making the arrangement.</p>

<p>Kris Kringle's face wore an expansive grin as he discovered
the cause of the interruption. But, Professor Zepplin's face
reflected no such emotion. He was angry. He started to rise, when
a second shadow fell across the table.</p>

<p>Ned Rector, not to be outdone by his fat little friend, pursed
his lips tightly, driving his broncho at the dinner table and
pressing in the spurs so hard, that the pony grunted with
anger.</p>

<p>Up went the broncho in a graceful curving leap.</p>

<p>But the pony or its rider had not calculated the distance
properly. Both rear hoofs went through the table, whisking it off
the ground from before the astonished eyes of Professor Zepplin
and Kris Kringle.</p>

<p>Both men drew back so violently that they toppled over
backwards.</p>

<p>'Mid the crashing of dishes and the sound of breaking wood,
the dinner table shot up into the air, while the pony ploughed
the ground with its nose.</p>

<p>Ned Rector struck the ground some distance farther on; he slid
on his face for several feet skinning his nose, and filling
mouth, eyes and nose with dirt.</p>

<p>Then dishes and pieces of table began to rain down on them in
a perfect shower. A can of condensed milk emptied itself on the
head of Professor Zepplin, while a hot biscuit lodged inside the
collar of Santa Claus's shirt.</p>

<p>"Wow! Oh, wow!" howled the fat boy, falling off his pony in
the excess of his merriment and rolling on the ground.</p>

<h3>CHAPTER XVII</h3>

<h4>IN THE HOME OF THE CAVE DWELLERS</h4>

<p>Ned Rector sat up just in time to meet the wreck of the
descending table. Down he went again with Stacy's howls ringing
in his ears.</p>

<p>A firm hand jerked Rector free of the debris as Kris Kringle
laughing heartily hauled Ned to his feet. At the same moment
Professor Zepplin had laid more violent hands on the fat boy,
whom he shook until Stacy's howls lost much of their mirth. About
this time Tad and Walter rode in, having hurried along upon
hearing the disturbance in camp.</p>

<p>"Stacy Brown, are you responsible for this?" demanded the
Professor sternly.</p>

<p>"I'm more to blame than he is," interposed Ned.</p>

<p>"No, I&mdash;I had an idea," chuckled Stacy, threatening to
break out into another howl of mirth.</p>

<p>"Next time you have one, then, you will be good enough to let
me know. We will tie you up until the impulse to make trouble has
passed."</p>

<p>Tad and Walter could not resist a shout of laughter. Kris
Kringle was not slow to follow the example set by them, and all
at once Professor Zepplin forgot his dignity, sitting right down
amid the wreck and laughing immoderately.</p>

<p>Ned washed his face, and when, upon facing them, he exhibited
a peeled nose and a black eye, the merriment was renewed
again.</p>

<p>Supper was a success, in spite of the fact that many of their
dishes were utterly ruined, as well as some of the provisions.
But the lads gathered up the pieces and made the best of a bad
job. Fortunately they carried another folding table that they had
had made for their trip, and this was soon spread and a fresh
meal prepared.</p>

<p>"Well, have you two been getting into difficulties also?"
questioned the Professor, after they sat down to supper.</p>

<p>"No; we've been exploring, Walter and I," answered Tad.</p>

<p>"Exploring?"</p>

<p>"Yes. We discovered something that I should like to know more
about."</p>

<p>"What is that?" asked Kris Kringle, looking up
interestedly.</p>

<p>"We were over yonder, close to the mountains, which are
straight up and down, and half way to the top, we saw three or
four queerly-shaped rocks that looked like houses or huts. Did
you ever see them, Mr. Kringle?"</p>

<p>"No; but I think I know what you mean. They must be some of
the cave dwellings of the ancient Pueblos, or perhaps as far back
as the Toltecs. They built their homes in caves on the steep
rocks for better protection against their enemies."</p>

<p>"And nobody ever discovered these before?" questioned. Walter.
"How queer!"</p>

<p>"Perhaps these dwellings, if such they are, have been seen by
many a traveler, none of whom had interest enough in the matter
to investigate. Then again, they may have been fully explored.
There's not much in this part of the country that prospectors
have not looked over."</p>

<p>"May we explore these caves, Professor?" asked Tad.</p>

<p>"Please let us?" urged Walter.</p>

<p>"I see no objection if Mr. Kringle will be responsible for
you. I rather think I'll look into them myself. I'll confess the
idea interests me. Are they easy to get at?"</p>

<p>"I'm afraid not," answered Tad.</p>

<p>"Santa Claus will show us the way," interrupted Stacy
enthusiastically.</p>

<p>He was frowned down by the Professor.</p>

<p>"Why not start now?" urged Tad.</p>

<p>The guide consulted the sun.</p>

<p>"We might. It lacks all of three hours to dark."</p>

<p>There was much enthusiasm in camp. The idea that they were to
visit some unexplored caves, dwellings of an ancient people,
filled the lads with pleasant expectancy.</p>

<p>Before starting, Mr. Kringle sorted out some strong manila
rope and several tent stakes all of which he did up into two
bundles. Then he filled the magazine of his rifle, throwing this
over his shoulder.</p>

<p>"What's that for?" questioned Ned.</p>

<p>"The gun?"</p>

<p>"Yes."</p>

<p>"Can't tell what we may run into in a cave, you know."</p>

<p>After a final look at the camp all hands set out for the place
indicated by Tad. It was only a short distance, so they decided
to walk.</p>

<p>Reaching the base of the mountain they gazed up.</p>

<p>"Yes, those are cave dwellings," declared Kris Kringle. "And
they are still closed. Probably they haven't been opened in two
hundred years."</p>

<p>"I'd hate to live there and have to go home in a dark night,"
mused Chunky.</p>

<p>"Yes, how did they get to their houses?" wondered the other
boys.</p>

<p>"The question is, how are we going to get near enough to
explore them? How shall we get up there, Mr. Guide?" asked the
Professor.</p>

<p>"We'll find a way. We shall have to climb the mountain,
first."</p>

<p>All hands began clambering up the rocks. To do so they were
obliged to follow along the base of the mountain for some
distance before they found a place that they could climb.</p>

<p>Reaching the top, the guide examined their surroundings
carefully.</p>

<p>"See those little projections of rock slanting down toward the
shelf?" he asked.</p>

<p>"Yes."</p>

<p>"Well, in the old days they probably felled a tree so it would
fall on them. The occupants of the cave probably cut steps in the
tree trunk over which to travel up and down. The tree has rotted
away many years since."</p>

<p>"And we can't get down, then?"</p>

<p>"We'll find a way, Master Walter. I thought I should be able
to make a rope ladder that would work, but I see it is not
practicable."</p>

<p>"How shall we do it?"</p>

<p>"Try the old way, I guess, Master Tad."</p>

<p>"What's that?"</p>

<p>"The tree."</p>

<p>"But there are no trees near here?"</p>

<p>"Yes, there are, a few rods back. We are all strong and I
guess we shall be able to make a pretty fair pair of steps."</p>

<p>Kris Kringle had brought an axe with him. With this he cut
some long, straight poles which, he explained, were intended for
pike poles such as woodsmen use to roll logs. This done, he began
industriously chopping at the tree after deciding upon the exact
position in which he desired it to fall.</p>

<p>"It won't reach," declared Chunky, who, with hands in pockets,
legs spread wide apart, stood looking up at the flaring top of
the great tree.</p>

<p>The guide stopped chopping long enough to squint at the fat
boy.</p>

<p>"It'll reach you all right, if you stay where you are," he
said, then resumed his vigorous blows.</p>

<p>Stacy promptly took the hint and moved a safe distance
away.</p>

<p>"Get from under!" shouted the guide finally. One more blow
would send the tree crashing downward.</p>

<p>All hands scrambled for safety. One powerful blow from the
axe, and with a crashing and rending, the great tree began its
descent. When it struck the onlookers fully expected to see it
broken into many pieces, but the bushy top, hitting the rocks
first, broke the blow, and the body of the tree settled down
gently without even breaking its bark.</p>

<p>"Fine! Hurrah!" shouted the boys.</p>

<p>"It won't reach to the edge. Going to pull it over?"
questioned Stacy.</p>

<p>"Not exactly, but we're going to get it there. Perhaps we
shall not have it in place in time to explore the caves to-night,
but we shall be ready to do so early in the morning. It took our
friends longer to do this job, two hundred years or more ago,
than it will take us. We have better tools to work with."</p>

<p>"And better bosses," suggested Stacy.</p>

<p>Some little time was consumed in chopping the tree loose from
its stump, after which the guide worked the pike poles under the
trunk at intervals near the base. The others watched these
operations with interest.</p>

<p>"Now here is where you young gentlemen will have a chance to
show how strong you are. Each one grab a pike pole," Kringle
directed.</p>

<p>"Shan't I go hold the top down?" asked Stacy.</p>

<p>"You just grab a pike pole and get busy!" laughed Mr.
Kringle.</p>

<p>"Can't get out of work quite so easy as you thought," scoffed
Ned. "This is where we make you earn your supper."</p>

<p>"I don't have to earn it. Had it already."</p>

<p>"There are other meals coming," smiled the Professor.</p>

<p>"Now, heo&mdash;he!"</p>

<p>All raised on the pike poles at the same time with the result
that the tree was forced down the gentle incline several feet.
This was repeated again and again, the boys pausing to cheer
after every lift.</p>

<p>The tree being now perilously near the edge of the cliff Kris
Kringle called a halt. Next he fastened a rope around the top and
another around the base, taking a turn around a rock with each.
One boy was placed on each rope, the others at the pike poles,
while the guide stood at the edge giving directions.</p>

<p>The tree trunk gently slipped over under his guidance and a
few minutes later rested on the projecting rocks, that were just
high enough to hold it in place.</p>

<p>"Wouldn't take much to send it over, but I guess it will be
perfectly safe," he mused.</p>

<p>"May we go down now?" cried the boys.</p>

<p>"No; I'll make some steps first."</p>

<p>He did so with the axe, chopping out scoop-shaped places for
steps, until finally he had reached the rock in front of the cave
dwellings.</p>

<p>The tree lay at an easy slope, its bushy top partly resting on
the ledge, the latter being some eight feet deep by ten feet
wide.</p>

<p>Running up the log Mr. Kringle made another rope fast at the
top, throwing the free end over.</p>

<p>"Hold on to the rope while you are going down and you'll be in
no danger of falling," he warned.</p>

<p>The boys scrambled down the tree like so many squirrels, the
Professor following somewhat more cautiously.</p>

<p>The explorers found themselves not more than twenty feet from
the ground.</p>

<p>"Not much of a door yard. Where's the garden?" wondered Stacy,
looking about him curiously.</p>

<p>The entrance to the cave dwelling was blocked by a huge
boulder, that completely filled the opening. How it had been
gotten there none could say. The only possible explanation was
that the boulder had been found on the shelf and applied to the
purpose of protecting the cave dwellers' home.</p>

<p>"Now we're here, we can't get in," grumbled Ned.</p>

<p>"Nothing is impossible," answered Kris Kringle.</p>

<p>"Except one thing."</p>

<p>"What's that, Master Ned?"</p>

<p>"To hammer the least little bit of sense into the head of my
friend, Chunky Brown."</p>

<p>"You don't have to, that's why," retorted Stacy quickly. "It
has all the sense it'll hold, now."</p>

<p>"I guess that will be about all for you, Ned," laughed Walter.
"At least, Chunky didn't foul the dinner table when he jumped
it."</p>

<p>The guide, in the meantime, was experimenting with the
boulder, inserting a pike pole here and there in an effort to
move the big stone. It remained in place as solidly as if it had
grown there.</p>

<p>"There's some trick about the thing, I know, but what it is
gets me. Better stand back, all of you, in case it comes out all
of a sudden," Mr. Kringle warned them.</p>

<p>All at once the boulder did come out, and it kept on
coming.</p>

<p>"Look out!" bellowed the guide.</p>

<p>"Low bridge!" howled Stacy, hopping to one side and crouching
against the rocks.</p>

<p>The guide had sprung nimbly to one side as well. The big rock
had popped out like a pea from a pod. Instead of stopping,
however, it continued to roll on toward the edge.</p>

<p>"Hug the rocks! She's going down!" shouted the guide.</p>

<p>Go down it did, with a crash that seemed to shake the
mountain. Rolling to the edge of the shelf, it had toppled over,
taking a large strip of shelving rock with it.</p>

<p>"Wow!" howled Chunky;</p>

<p>The other boys uttered no sound, though their faces were a
little more pale than usual.</p>

<p>Kris Kringle stepped to the edge, peering over.</p>

<p>"No one will get that up here again, right away," he said.</p>

<p>"The cave, the cave!" shouted Walter.</p>

<p>Everyone turned, gazing half in awe at the dark opening that
the removal of the stone had revealed&mdash;an opening that had
been closed for probably more than two centuries.</p>

<h3>CHAPTER XVIII</h3>

<h4>FACING THE ENEMY'S GUNS</h4>

<p>"Do we go in?" asked the Professor.</p>

<p>"Wait, I'll get some light inside first," answered the prudent
guide. "Can't tell whether we shall want to go in or not."</p>

<p>He built up a small fire within, then called to the others
that they might enter. They crowded in hastily, finding
themselves in a fairly large chamber, at the far end of which was
a sort of natural alcove in the rocks.</p>

<p>The remnants of a fire still lay at one side, where the last
meal of the ancient dweller had probably been cooked. Several
crude looking utensils lay about, together with a number of
pieces of ancient pottery.</p>

<p>"This is, indeed, a rare find!" exclaimed the Professor,
carrying the precious jars out into the light for closer
examination.</p>

<p>Chunky, about that time, pounced upon an object which proved
to be a copper hatchet.</p>

<p>"Hurray for George Washington!" he shouted, brandishing the
crude tool. "The man who never told&mdash;"</p>

<p>"We've heard that before," objected Ned. "Give us something
new, Chunky, if you've <i>got</i> to talk."</p>

<p>The Professor came in, searching for other curios just as
Stacy went out to examine his "little axe," as he was pleased to
call it. He tried the edge of it on the ledge to find out if the
stone would dull it, but it did not.</p>

<p>"I'll use that to cut nails and wire with when I get back
home," decided the boy. "Guess I'll chop my name in the side of
the mountain here." Stacy proceeded to do so, the others being
too much engrossed in their explorations to know or care what he
was about. He succeeded very well, both in making letters on the
wall and in putting several nicks in the edge of his new-found
hatchet.</p>

<p>He was thus engaged when all at once something struck the axe
hurling it from his hand. At the same instant a rifle crashed off
somewhere below and to the southeast of him.</p>

<p>"Ouch!" exclaimed the fat boy holding his hand. "Wonder who
did that?" His mind had not coupled the shot with the blow on the
hatchet.</p>

<p>Bang!</p>

<p>A bullet flattened itself close to his head, against the
rock.</p>

<p>With a howl, the lad threw himself down on the ledge.</p>

<p>At that instant Kris Kringle sprang to the opening of the
cave.</p>

<p>"What does this mean?" he snapped.</p>

<p>"I don't know. Somebody knocked the axe out of my hand then
shot at me."</p>

<p>The guide discovered the trouble right there. A bullet snipped
his hat from his head; and, striking the ceiling of the
cave-home, dropped to the floor with a dull clatter.</p>

<p>Kris Kringle ducked with amazing quickness. Crawling back into
the cave, he reached for his own rifle and then sought the
opening, taking good care not to expose himself to the fire of
the unseen enemy.</p>

<p>Stacy, on his part, had lost no time in getting to a place of
safety inside, though he was prudent enough to crawl instead of
getting up and walking in."</p>

<p>"What does this mean? It can't be possible that anyone is
deliberately shooting at us?" questioned Professor Zepplin in
undisguised amazement.</p>

<p>"If you doubt it step outside," suggested Kris Kringle.
"Master Stacy and myself know what they tried to do, don't we,
lad?"</p>

<p>"We do."</p>

<p>The fat boy again swelled with importance.</p>

<p>"Look out you don't swell up so big you'll break your
harness," warned Ned.</p>

<p>"Better break it than have it shot off," mumbled Stacy.</p>

<p>"Who can it be?"</p>

<p>"I can't say, Professor."</p>

<p>"It's our friends from the fire dance," was Tad's expressed
conviction.</p>

<p>"Told you they'd be here," nodded Chunky. "Why don't you shoot
at them?"</p>

<p>"Going to, in a minute. Got to find out where they are
first."</p>

<p>Now the lads were excited in earnest. Some one was shooting at
them, and the guide was going to fire back. This was more than
they had expected when they visited the home of the
cave-dweller.</p>

<p>"Let me take a crack at 'em," begged Chunky. "I owe 'em
one."</p>

<p>"Master Stacy, you will do nothing of the sort," reproved the
Professor sternly. "The idea!"</p>

<p>"No; if there's any shooting to be done I'll do it," announced
Kris Kringle.</p>

<p>"And Santa Claus isn't shooting with any toy gun, this time,"
chuckled Chunky.</p>

<p>"Can you see the camp, to know if anyone is there?"</p>

<p>"Yes, but only part of it, Professor. I wish you would all get
over into the right hand corner there and lie flat on the floor.
I'm going to try to draw their fire so that I can locate them.
Can't afford to waste ammunition until we are reasonably sure
where our mark is."</p>

<p>The others quickly got into the position indicated.</p>

<p>Placing his hat on one of the pike poles, Kringle slowly
pushed it outside.</p>

<p>There was no result, The ruse failed to draw the enemy's
fire.</p>

<p>"Oh, they've gone. We're a lot of babies," jeered Ned, jumping
up and starting for the opening.</p>

<p>Kris Kringle gave him a push with the butt of the rifle.</p>

<p>"Want, to get shot full of holes? Wait! I'll show you."</p>

<p>The guide sprang up, showing himself out on the ledge for one
brief instant then throwing himself flat.</p>

<p>A sharp "ping" against the rocks, followed by a heavy report,
told the story. The guide had been not a second too soon in
getting out of harm's way, for the bullet would have gone right
through him had be remained standing.</p>

<p>Quick as a flash Kringle's rifle leaped to his shoulder, and
he fired. He had taken quick aim at a puff of smoke off toward
the camp.</p>

<p>Not content with one shot he raked the bushes all about where
the puff of smoke had been seen, emptying the magazine of the
rifle in a few seconds.</p>

<p>Stacy Brown was fairly dancing with glee.</p>

<p>"Did you hit anything?" asked the boys breathlessly.</p>

<p>"Of course, I hit something; but whether I winged an Indian or
not, I don't know. If I did, he probably is not seriously
wounded. You'll hear a redskin yell when he's hit bad."</p>

<p>"That one I punched didn't. He was hit hard," volunteered
Stacy.</p>

<p>"He didn't have time," grinned Tad. "You were too quick for
him."</p>

<p>"Look out! There comes a volley!" warned Mr. Kringle.</p>

<p>The boys, led by the Professor tumbled into the corner in a
heap, while the lead pattered in through the opening, rattling
with great force like a handful of pebbles.</p>

<p>"They're getting in a hurry," averred the Professor.</p>

<p>"It's growing dark. They want to finish us before then, so we
can't play any tricks on them after that. But, if they only knew
it, and they probably do, they've got us beautifully trapped. One
man below and another at the other end of our tree would be able
to keep us here till the springs run dry. If there's only two of
them there, as I suspect is the case, they may not want to
separate. We'll see, the minute it gets dark enough so that we
can move about without being observed."</p>

<p>Some of the sage brush that Kris Kringle had brought down to
light up the cave lay outside on the ledge. Using one of the
poles, he cautiously raked the stuff inside, heaping it up not
far from the entrance.</p>

<p>"What you doing that for?" questioned Stacy, unable to conceal
his curiosity.</p>

<p>"You'll see, by-and-by, when we get ready to do something
else. You don't think I'm going to stay here all night, do
you?"</p>

<p>There was no further firing on either side, though Mr. Kringle
showed himself boldly several times.</p>

<p>Finally Tad tried it, and was greeted with a shot the instant
he appeared in the opening.</p>

<p>"Must be me they're after," he suggested, with a forced grin,
falling flat on the ledge, and wriggling back into the cave.</p>

<p>The twilight was upon them now. The guide had been able to see
the flash of the rifle below him, and had taken a quick shot at
it when the enemy attempted to wing Tad Butler. Kringle had no
means of knowing whether his shot had been effective or not.</p>

<p>"I'm going to try something else in a few minutes, now," the
guide told the Professor and the boys, "and I hope you all will
do just as I tell you."</p>

<p>"You may depend upon our doing exactly that," answered the
Professor.</p>

<p>"I am going to crawl out of here. The rest of you remain here
until I call to you to come out, no matter if it is until
morning. After I have been gone about ten minutes, light a match
and toss it into the heap of sage there, but watch out that you
don't get into the light. Throw the match. You're liable to be
shot if you show yourselves."</p>

<p>"Why should we make a fire and thus make targets of
ourselves?" protested Ned.</p>

<p>"That is to cover Mr. Kringle's retreat," Tad informed
them.</p>

<p>"Exactly. Master Tad, you may come along with me if you
wish."</p>

<p>Tad jumped at the offer.</p>

<p>"But not a sound. Ask me no questions. Follow a rod or so
behind me, and walk low down all the time. If you make a mistake
it may result seriously for you and your friends. And, another
thing."</p>

<p>"Yes?"</p>

<p>"Should there be any shooting, throw yourself on the ground.
You will not be as likely to be hit there."</p>

<p>"I'll obey orders, sir."</p>

<p>"I know it."</p>

<p>"When do we start?"</p>

<p>"I guess we can do so now, as safely as at any time. The
rascals will not be likely to be on the mountain just yet,
because it is not dark enough. Yes; we'll go now."</p>

<p>Tad waited until Kris Kringle had crawled from the cave, then
lay down on his stomach and wriggled out on the ledge.</p>

<p>There were no signs of the enemy and the camp-fire of the Pony
Rider Boys glowed dimly down below. Tad, peering off into the
gloom, for the moon had not yet risen, thought he saw a figure
flit by the fire. He could not be sure, however. He wished he
might tell the guide of his fancied discovery; but, remembering
the injunction for absolute silence, he said nothing.</p>

<p>By this time, Tad's arms were about the log. From the slight
vibration he knew that Kris Kringle was somewhere between himself
and the top, yet not a sound did the guide make. Tad made no
more, and they would have been keen ears, indeed, that could have
detected our friends' presence by sound alone.</p>

<p>When the lad finally reached the top a hand was laid on his
shoulder. The touch gave him a violent start in spite of his
steady nerves.</p>

<p>"You're all right," whispered the voice of Kris Kringle.
"You'd make a good Indian. I want to explain something that I
didn't wish the others to hear."</p>

<p>"Yes?" whispered Tad.</p>

<p>"I have only one shell left in my rifle. That's why I wanted
you to go along. If, by any chance, the rascals should get me,
you lie low. They'll make for the cave, as they know, by this
time, that there is only one rifle in the party. The minute they
do, should such an emergency arise, slide for the camp and get
your gun. You'll know what to do with it. It'll be a case of
saving the lives of your companions if it comes to that."</p>

<p>"I understand," answered Tad bravely; and without a quaver in
his voice.</p>

<p>"Mind you, I don't think for a minute that it will happen. I
can handle these fellows if I get the lay of the land. Keep close
enough to hear me."</p>

<p>"That's not so easy."</p>

<p>"No; but you'll know. When I stop you do the same."</p>

<h3>CHAPTER XIX</h3>

<h4>OUTWITTING THE REDSKINS</h4>

<p>Kris Kringle moved away without another word. His abrupt
departure was the signal for the Pony Rider boy to start, which
he did instantly.</p>

<p>In a few minutes Tad was skulking along the top of the
mountain, when he ran into the guide again.</p>

<p>Just then the report of a rifle sounded down below them.</p>

<p>"Are they shooting at us?" whispered Tad.</p>

<p>"No; the boys have lighted the fire in the cave. Our friends
down below took a pot shot at the blaze. Hope they didn't hit
anybody."</p>

<p>"Chunky would be the only one to get in the way, and I imagine
the others would hold him back."</p>

<p>"Come this way; we'll go down by a different trail. The
redskins are watching the fire in the cave, but they may be
keeping an eye on the trail at the same time."</p>

<p>Silently the man and the boy took their way along the rough,
uneven path, slowly working down into the valley. They soon
reached this, for the range was low there.</p>

<p>Reaching the foothills, the two scouts once more fell into
single file, Tad Butler to the rear. He knew that the guide's
rifle ahead of him was ready for instant use, and at any second
now Tad expected to see the flash of a gun.</p>

<p>The lad was not afraid, but he was all a-quiver with
excitement. This stalking an enemy in the dark, not knowing at
what minute that enemy might make the attack, was not the same as
a stand-up fight in broad daylight. Tad wondered why the guide
had not permitted the rest of the party to escape while they had
the opportunity. He did not know that Kris Kringle fully expected
an ambush, nor that two would stand a better chance to get
through and out-wit the savages than would half a dozen of them.
The pair had approached nearly to the camp, for which the guide
was heading, when suddenly a hand was laid on the boy's arm in a
firm grip. Tad knew the guide had seen or heard something.</p>

<p>"What is it?"</p>

<p>"There!"</p>

<p>In the faint light of the camp-fire the lad, gazing where Kris
Kringle had pointed, was astonished to see a figure seated at
their table. From his motions it was evident that the intruder
was stowing away the stolen fool at a great rate.</p>

<p>"Is that one of them?"</p>

<p>"Yes."</p>

<p>"He'll have indigestion, the way he's eating. Hope he doesn't
swallow the dishes, too."</p>

<p>"I'm going to find the other one. You crawl as close to the
camp as you can with safety. If you hear a disturbance, dive for
the tents the instant that fellow starts. He'll move if he hears
any noise. Get a gun and hurry to me, but be quiet about it."</p>

<p>"Yes."</p>

<p>"Remember your instructions. I may be able to handle both of
them, but if I don't get the missing one at the first crack I
shan't be able to take care of them both. You'll have to help me.
Got the nerve?"</p>

<p>"I'm not afraid," whispered the boy steadily. "And I've got
some muscle as well."</p>

<p>"That's evident. I'm off now."</p>

<p>Tad was left alone. This time he could feel the guide's
movements, as the latter slipped away on the soft earth. But in a
moment all sound was lost,</p>

<p>"I think I'll crawl up nearer, so as to be handy if anything
occurs," decided the lad, creeping along on all fours. He could
not see the light in the camp now, but he reasoned that the man
at the table was sitting with his back to it, as near as Tad
could judge of direction in the dark. The Indian seemed not to
fear a surprise.</p>

<p>"That's what comes from overconfidence," grinned the lad.</p>

<p>"I wish I had something to defend myself with," he added after
a pause.</p>

<p>Tad had no sooner expressed his wish, than his fingers closed
over some object on the ground. He grasped it with about the same
hopefulness that a dying man will grasp at a straw.</p>

<p>What he had found was a heavy tent stake, one that Kris
Kringle had dropped from his bundle on the way to the cliff
dweller's home.</p>

<p>The lad breathed a prayer of thankfulness and crept on with
renewed courage.</p>

<p>He proceeded as far as he dared; then, lay still, listening
for the noise of the expected conflict between the guide and the
other red man.</p>

<p>It came. The sound was like that of a body falling
heavily.</p>

<p>Once more the Indian at the table turned his head, listening
inquiringly. He made a half motion to rise, glanced at the table,
then sat down again and began to eat.</p>

<p>"His appetite has overcome his judgment," grinned Tad. The lad
could hear the faint sound of conflict somewhere to the rear of
him. He was getting uneasy and began to fidget.</p>

<p>All at once the red man sprang up, starting on a run, trailing
Stacy's rifle behind him. He was headed directly for the place
where Tad lay flattened on the ground, though the lad felt sure
his enemy did not see him.</p>

<p>But when the Indian suddenly sprang up into the air to avoid
stepping on the object that lay there, Tad knew that further
secrecy was useless. The redskin had jumped right over him,
dropping Chunky's rifle as he leaped. The gun fell on the Pony
Rider boy and for a second hindered his movements.</p>

<p>But Tad was up like a flash, while the Indian whirled no less
quickly, knife unsheathed, ready for battle.</p>

<p>This was where Tad's tent stake came in handy. Without it he
would have been in a much more serious fix. It was bad enough as
it was.</p>

<p>Without an instant's hesitation the lad brought the stake down
on the wrist of the hand that held the knife. The knife fell to
the ground, while the Indian, with a half-suppressed howl, sprang
at the slender lad. Though the fellow's wrist was well-nigh
useless at that moment, he was as full of fight as ever.</p>

<p>Tad stepped nimbly aside and tried to trip his adversary, but
the Indian was too sharp to be caught that way.</p>

<p>"If he ever gets those arms around me I'm a goner," thought
Tad, taking mental measure of his antagonist.</p>

<p>Suddenly the Indian swooped down, making a grab for the rifle
that he had dropped.</p>

<p>As the redskin stooped, Tad hit him a wallop on the head with
the tent stake. It must have made the savage see a shower of
stars.</p>

<p>At least, it staggered him so he was glad to let the weapon
remain where it was. For a few seconds the air was full of flying
legs and arms, during which the boy landed three times on the red
man, being himself unhurt.</p>

<p>Then the Indian succeeded in rushing into a clinch, and Tad
found himself gripped in those arms of steel. Wriggle and twist
as be would he could not free himself from their embrace. His
adversary, on the other hand, found himself fully occupied in
holding on to his slippery young antagonist, giving him neither
time nor opportunity effectually to dispose of the slender
lad.</p>

<p>Tad was unusually muscular for his years, to which was added
no little skill as wrestler. The Indian soon discovered both
these qualities. And, at about that time, the lad was resorting
to every trick he knew to place the Indian in a position where he
could be thrown.</p>

<p>The moment came with disconcerting suddenness, and Mr. Redman
uttered a loud grunt as he landed on the ground, flat on his
back. With a spring he lifted himself up, and the next instant he
had thrown the slight figure of the Pony Rider Boy so heavily
that everything about Tad grew black. He felt himself going. Then
all at once he lost consciousness.</p>

<p>When finally he awakened, Tad found a figure still bending
over him.</p>

<p>Quick as a flash the boy's arms went up, encircling the neck
of the man kneeling by him. The next instant the fellow was on
his back, with Tad sitting on his chest.</p>

<p>"Here, here! What's the matter with you?" gasped a muffled
voice, which Tad instantly recognized.</p>

<p>"Kris Kringle!" he gasped.</p>

<p>"Yes; and you nearly knocked the breath out of me," grinned
the guide, struggling to his feet. "Well, you certainly are a
whirlwind."</p>

<p>"I&mdash;I thought you were the Indian," mattered Tad in a
sheepish tone.</p>

<p>"If it had been, there would have been no need for my
interference."</p>

<p>"Where is he?"</p>

<p>"Over there, tied up. Both of them are. We'll decide what to
do with them when we get the party together."</p>

<p>"Tell me what happened," begged Tad.</p>

<p>The other fellow was so busy watching the cave that he forgot
to keep his ears open. I was able to approach him without being
detected. When I got near enough I laid the butt of my rifle over
his head. No, I didn't hurt him much. Just made him curl up on
the ground long enough to enable me to tie his hands and
feet.</p>

<p>"About that time I caught the sound of something going on over
here. I made a run, suspecting that you were mixing it up with
the other redskin. Guess I was just in time, too, for he had you
down and was reaching for something&mdash;"</p>

<p>"His knife," nodded Tad. "It's somewhere around here now."</p>

<p>"Well, I gave him the same medicine that I had given the
other. Now we'd better go and call the others."</p>

<p>"Thank you. I'd have been in a bad fix, if you hadn't come as
you did."</p>

<p>"So might I, had you not stopped the second one. We're quits
then," said the guide, extending his hand, which Tad grasped
warmly.</p>

<p>"I'll call the others, if you wish."</p>

<p>"Yes."</p>

<p>Tad ran over to the base of the cliff, and shouted loudly for
his companions. In half an hour the party had gathered about the
camp fire, engaged in an animated discussion over the stirring
experiences of the evening.</p>

<p>It was decided that the Indians should be placed on their
ponies, to which they were to be tied, with hands free and
provisions enough to last them until they reached their
reservation in the northern part of the state;</p>

<p>The guide restored their rifles to them after first taking
their ammunition and transferring it to his own kit.</p>

<p>"I've wasted nearly that much on you," he said. "And, if ever
you ride across my trail again, I'll use your own lead on you in
a way that will stop you. You won't need bullets like these in
the Happy Hunting Grounds, where you'll be going. Now, git!"</p>

<p>And they did. The redskins rode as if a ghost were pursuing
them.</p>

<p>"That's the last, we shall see of those gentlemen," laughed
Kris Kringle. "To-morrow morning we shall be on our way in
peace."</p>

<p>But the trail of the Pony Rider Boys was not to be all peace.
Before them&mdash;ere they reached the end of the Silver
Trail&mdash;they were to find other thrilling experiences
awaiting them.</p>

<h3>CHAPTER XX</h3>

<h4>TILTING FOR THE SILVER SPURS</h4>

<p>Their journey led the young horsemen across the plains, over
low-lying ranges, across broad, barren table-lands and down
through the bottom lands until the wide sweep of the Rio Grande
River at last lay before them.</p>

<p>After the weeks of arid landscape the sight of water, and so
much of it, brought a loud cheer from the Pony Rider Boys. The
next thing was to find a fording place. This they did late in the
afternoon of the same day, and their further journey took them to
the little desert town of Puraje.</p>

<p>They camped on the outskirts of the village.</p>

<p>"Here's where we get a real bath. Who's going in swimming with
me?" asked Tad.</p>

<p>"I am," shouted all the boys at once.</p>

<p>The Professor and Kris Kringle concluded that they, too, would
take a dip, and a merry hour was spent in a protected cove of the
big river, where the boys proved themselves as much at home as
they were in the saddle.</p>

<p>In the evening, they purchased such supplies as the town
afforded. The night passed with-out disturbance, the boys taking
up their journey next morning before the sleepy town had
awakened.</p>

<p>It was a week later, when, tired and dusty, the outfit pulled
up at La Luz, a quaint hamlet nestling in the foothills of the
Sacramento Mountains. The place they found to be largely Mexican,
and it was almost as if the visitors had slipped over the border
to find themselves in Mexico itself.</p>

<p>Decorations were in evidence on all sides; bright-colored
mantillas, Indian blankets and flags were everywhere.</p>

<p>"Hello, I guess something is going on here," laughed Tad.</p>

<p>"We are in time, whatever it is," nodded the guide. "Probably
it's a feast of some kind. You will be interested in it, if that
is what it is.</p>

<p>The feast, they learned, was to be celebrated on the morrow
with games, feats of strength and horsemanship.</p>

<p>"Do you think they will let us take part?" asked Tad, as the
party made camp in the yard of a little adobe church, where they
had obtained permission to camp.</p>

<p>"I'll see about it," answered the guide. "There may be reasons
why it would not be best to do so."</p>

<p>"Maybe I can win another rifle," suggested Chunky.</p>

<p>"These people don't give away rifles. They're too&mdash;
too&mdash;what do you call it?&mdash;too artistic. That's
it."</p>

<p>The camp being on the main street of the village, attracted no
little attention. After sundown, crowds of gayly bedecked young
people strolled up and stood about the church yard, watching the
American boys pitching their tents and preparing for their stay
over night.</p>

<p>The villagers were especially interested in watching the boys
get their supper, which was served up steaming hot within fifteen
minutes after preparations had begun. Chunky had bought several
pies at the store, which, with a pound of cheese brought in by
Ned, made a pleasant change in the daily routine.</p>

<p>Chunky started in on the pie.</p>

<p>Ned calmly reached over and took it away from him; then the
supper went along until it came time for the dessert, when Chunky
fixed his eyes on the cheese suspiciously.</p>

<p>"See anything wrong with that cheese?" demanded Ned.</p>

<p>"No, but I've got an idea."</p>

<p>"Out with it! You won't rest easy until you do. What's your
idea?"</p>

<p>"I was thinking, if I had a camera, I could make a motion
picture of that cheese. I heard of a fellow once&mdash;"</p>

<p>"That will do, Master Stacy," warned Professor Zepplin.</p>

<p>"Can't I talk?"</p>

<p>"Along proper lines&mdash;yes."</p>

<p>"Cheese is proper, isn't it?"</p>

<p>"Depends upon how old it is," chuckled Tad.</p>

<p>"You needn't make fun of my cheese. Here give it to me; I'll
eat it."</p>

<p>"You're welcome to it, Ned," laughed the boys.</p>

<p>The fun went on, much to the amusement of the villagers, who
remained near by until the evening was well along and the lads
began preparing for bed. Next morning the visitors began coming
in to town early. There were men from the ranches, Mexican
ranch-hands arrayed in bright colors and displaying expensive
saddle trimmings. There were others from the wild places on the
desert, far beyond the water limits, whose means of livelihood
were known only to themselves.</p>

<p>It was a strange company, and one that appealed considerably
to the curiosity of the Pony Rider Boys.</p>

<p>The early part of the day was given over to racing, roping,
gambling and other sports in which the lads were content to take
no part. But there was an event scheduled for the afternoon that
interested Tad more than all the rest. That was a tilting bout,
open to all comers. A tilting arch had been erected in the middle
of the main street, and had been decorated with flags and
greens.</p>

<p>The tilting ring, suspended from the top of the arch, was not
more than an inch in diameter. The horseman who could impale it
on his tilting peg and carry the ring away with him the greatest,
number of times, would be declared the winner. Each one was to be
given five chances.</p>

<p>The prize, a pair of silver spurs, was to be presented by the
belle of the town, a dark-eyed se&ntilde;orita.</p>

<p>The guide had entered Tad in this contest; but, as the lad
glanced up at the ring only an inch in diameter, he grew rather
dubious. He never had seen any tilting, and did not even know how
the sport was conducted.</p>

<p>Kris Kringle gave the lad some instructions about the method
employed by the tilters, and Tad decided to enter the
contest.</p>

<p>Only ten horsemen entered, most of these being either Mexicans
or halfbreeds.</p>

<p>The first trial over, five of the contestants had succeeded in
carrying away the ring.</p>

<p>Tad had waited until nearly the last in order to get all the
information possible as to the way the rest of the contestants
played the game. A pole had been loaned to him, or rather a
"peg," they called it, eight feet long, tapered so as to allow it
to go through the brass ring for fully two feet of its
length.</p>

<p>The Pony Rider boy took his place in the middle of the street,
and without the least hesitancy, galloped down toward the ring,
which, indeed, he could not even see. When within a few feet of
the arch he caught the sparkle of the ring.</p>

<p>His lance came up, and putting spurs to his broncho, he shot
under the arch, driving the point of the peg full at the slender
circle. The point struck the edge sending the ring swaying like
the pendulum of a clock.</p>

<p>A howl greeted his achievement. Tad said nothing, but riding
slowly back, awaited his next trial.</p>

<p>The rule was that when one of the contestants made a strike,
he was to continue until he failed. He would be allowed to run
out five points in succession if he could.</p>

<p>"Rest the peg against your side, and lightly," advised a man,
as Tad turned into the street for another try. The man was past
middle age, and, though dressed in the garb of a man of the
plains, Tad decided at once that he was not of the same type as
most of the motley mob by which he was surrounded.</p>

<p>The lad nodded his understanding.</p>

<p>With a sharp little cry of warning, the boy put spurs to his
pony. He fairly flew down the course. No such speed had been seen
there that day. The northern bronchos that the boys were riding
were built for faster work and possessed more spirit than their
brothers of the desert.</p>

<p>As he neared the arch, this time, the lad half rose in his
stirrups. He knew where to look for the ring now. Leaning
slightly forward he let the point of the peg tilt ever so little.
It went through the ring, tearing it from its slender fastening
and carrying it away.</p>

<p>Loud shouts of approval greeted his achievement.</p>

<p>Once more he raced down the lane, this time at so fast a clip
that the faces of the spectators who lined the course were a mere
blur in his eyes.</p>

<p>He felt the slight jar and heard the click as the ring slipped
over the tilting peg.</p>

<p>"Two," announced the scorer.</p>

<p>He missed the next one. Then the others took their turn. Only
one of these succeeded in scoring. He was one of the Mexicans who
made such a brave show of color in raiment and saddle cloth.</p>

<p>"That gives the se&ntilde;or and the boy three apiece. Each
has one turn left. The others will fall out. If neither scores in
his turn, both will be ruled out and the others will compete for
the prize," announced the scorer.</p>

<p>The Mexican smiled a supercilious smile, as much as to say,
"The idea of a long-legged, freckle-faced boy defeating me!" The
Mexican was an expert at the game of tilting as it was practised
on the desert.</p>

<p>The man took the first turn. He sat quietly on his pony a
moment before starting, placing the lance at just the proper
angle&mdash;then galloped at the mark. He, too, rose in his
stirrups. The spectators were silent.</p>

<p>The ring just missed being impaled on the tilting peg,
slipping along the pole half way then bounding up into the
air.</p>

<p>The spectators groaned. The Mexican had lost.</p>

<p>Now it was Tad's turn.</p>

<p>He rode as if it were an everyday occurrence with him to tilt,
only he went at it with a rash that fairly took their breath
away.</p>

<p>Just as he was about to drive at the ring, some one uttered a
wild yell and a sombrero hurled from the crowd, struck Tad fairly
across the eyes.</p>

<p>Of course he lost, and, for a moment, he could not see a
thing. He pulled his pony to a quick stop and sat rubbing and
blinking his smarting eyes.</p>

<p>A howl of disapproval went up from the spectators. None seemed
to know whether the act had been inspired by enthusiasm or
malice. Tad was convinced that it was the latter. His face was
flushed, but the lad made no comment.</p>

<p>"You are entitled to another tilt," called the scorer.</p>

<p>To this the Mexican objected loudly.</p>

<p>"Under the circumstances, as my opponent objects, and as we
all wish to prevent hard feelings, why not give him a chance as
well? If he wins I shall be satisfied."</p>

<p>A shout of approval greeted Tad's suggestion. This was the
real sportsman-like spirit, and it appealed to them.</p>

<p>The proposition was agreed to. But again the Mexican lost.</p>

<p>"If the young man is interfered with this time, I shall award
the prize to him and end the tournament," warned the scorer.</p>

<p>Though Tad's eyes were smarting from the blow of the sombrero,
he allowed the eyelids to droop well over them, thus protecting
them from the dust and at the same time giving him a clearer
vision.</p>

<p>On his next turn, Tad tore down the narrow lane; he shot
between the posts like an arrow, and the tilting peg was driven
far into the narrow hoop, wedging the ring on so firmly that it
afterwards required force to loosen and remove it.</p>

<p>Without halting his pony, Tad rode on, out a circle and came
back at a lively gallop, pulling up before the stand of dry goods
boxes, where the young woman who was to award the prize stood
swinging her handkerchief, while the spectators set up a
deafening roar of applause.</p>

<p>Tad was holding the tilting peg aloft, displaying the ring
wedged on it. He made the young woman a sweeping bow, his
sombrero almost touching the ground as he did so.</p>

<p>Another shout went up when the handsome spurs were handed to
him, which the enthusiastic young woman first wrapped in her own
handkerchief before passing the prize over to him. And amid the
din, Tad heard the familiar "Oh, Wow! Wow!" in the shrill voice
of Stacy Brown.</p>

<h3>CHAPTER XXI</h3>

<h4>THE FAT BOY'S DISCOVERY</h4>

<p>"I saw him! I saw him, Tad!"</p>

<p>"Saw who, Chunky?"</p>

<p>"I tell you, I did. Don't you s'pose I know what my eyes tell
me in confidence. Don't you to go to contradicting to me."</p>

<p>Stacy had fairly overwhelmed Tad Butler with the importance of
his discovery; but, thus far, Tad had not the least idea what it
was all about.</p>

<p>"When you get quieted down perhaps you'll be good enough to
tell me who it is you saw?"</p>

<p>"The man, the man!"</p>

<p>"Humph! That's about as clear as the water in an alkali sink.
What man?"</p>

<p>"The one we saw on the train. Don't you know?"</p>

<p>Tad thought a moment.</p>

<p>"You mean the one we heard talking just before we got to
Bluewater?" Butler had entirely forgotten the incident.</p>

<p>"Yes; that's him! That's him," exploded Stacy.</p>

<p>"You say that fellow&mdash;Lasar, that's his name&mdash;is he
here!"</p>

<p>"Uh-huh."</p>

<p>"Where?"</p>

<p>"He got off the stage down by the postoffice, just when I was
coming up here."</p>

<p>"Was he alone?"</p>

<p>"The other fellow wasn't with him, if that's what you
mean?"</p>

<p>"Yes." Tad went over in his mind the conversation the man
Lasar had held with his companion, in which the pair were
plotting against some one by the name of Marquand.</p>

<p>"Oh, well, Chunky, it's none of our concern. I think we must
have magnified the incident. I&mdash;"</p>

<p>"He'll bear watching, Tad. He will and it's muh&mdash;
muh&mdash;you understand who's going to do it," declared Chunky,
swelling out his chest and tapping it with his right fist.</p>

<p>"All right, go ahead," laughed Tad. "It's time some of us get
into more trouble. The Professor will begin to think we've got a
fever, or something, if we let two days in succession pass
without stirring up something."</p>

<p>"I've got an idea," exploded Stacy.</p>

<p>"There you go. It's coming now."</p>

<p>"I'll go tell the policeman."</p>

<p>"Why, you ninny, there are no policemen here. Perhaps there is
a sheriff. Hello, here comes the gentleman who gave me the advice
that helped me to win those handsome spurs. He's introducing
himself to the Professor and Mr. Kringle. Let's go over."</p>

<p>Forgetting for the moment the subject they were discussing,
Tad and Stacy strolled over to the camp-fire.</p>

<p>"O Tad, this is Mr. Marquand, Mr. James Marquand from
Albuquerque. He wants to know you. And this is another one of our
Pony Rider Boys, Master Stacy Brown," said the Professor,
presenting his boys.</p>

<p>"Marquand!" exclaimed both boys under their breaths.</p>

<p>"I am glad to know you, Master Butler. That was a very fine
piece of work you did this afternoon. You've steady nerves."</p>

<p>"If there's any credit due it is to you. Your suggestion
helped me to win the prize. Without it I should have failed,"
answered Tad generously.</p>

<p>"Which way are you headed?" asked Mr. Marquand.</p>

<p>"Guadalupes," answered the guide. "The boys want to explore
some of the old pueblos."</p>

<p>"And I also," spoke up Professor Zepplin. "I understand there
is much of interest in them."</p>

<p>"I should say so," muttered their guest.</p>

<p>"I'd like a few moments to speak with you in private, if you
can spare the time," said Tad in a low voice, at the first
opportunity.</p>

<p>"At your service now, sir."</p>

<p>"No; not here."</p>

<p>"Then come to my room at the hotel. I'll fix it with the
others," said Mr. Marquand, observing at once that the lad had
some serious purpose in mind.</p>

<p>"My friend Chunky will go with me, if agreeable to you?"</p>

<p>"That's all right. Professor, if you have no objection I
should like to have these two young men go to my quarters with me
for a little while. I&mdash;"</p>

<p>"Certainly. Don't stay out too late, boys."</p>

<p>"No, sir."</p>

<p>"Wonder what they've got up their sleeves?" muttered Ned,
watching the receding figures of his two companions and Mr.
Marquand.</p>

<p>"You may talk," smiled the latter after they were well
started.</p>

<p>"I'd rather not until we are where we shall not be overheard,"
answered Tad promptly.</p>

<p>All three fell silent. The boys followed their host to his
room, apparently without having been observed. The little village
was too full of its own pleasures to notice.</p>

<p>"Be seated, boys. I take for granted that neither of you
smoke?"</p>

<p>"Oh no, sir."</p>

<p>"Now, what can I do for you? I am sure you have something of
importance to yourselves on your minds."</p>

<p>"Not to us specially. Perhaps to you, though," replied
Tad.</p>

<p>"Indeed?"</p>

<p>"We may be foolish. If so, you will understand that we have no
motive beyond a desire to serve you."</p>

<p>"That goes without saying."</p>

<p>"Do you know a man by the name of Lasar&mdash;Bob Lasar, Mr.
Marquand?"</p>

<p>Mr. Marquand started, eyeing both lads questioningly.</p>

<p>"Yes; he is associated with me in a business venture."</p>

<p>"Told you so," interjected Stacy.</p>

<p>"What of him?"</p>

<p>Tad wished he was well out of it all. To be obliged to tell
all he knew of Bob Lasar, and to the latter's partner, was rather
a troublesome undertaking.</p>

<p>Plucking up courage, Tad briefly related all that he and his
companion had overheard on the train as they were approaching
Bluewater to all of which their host listened with grave
attention and increasing interest.</p>

<p>"The incident probably would not have come back to me again
but for certain things that happened to-day," Tad continued.</p>

<p>"Would either of you know Lasar were you to see him again, do
you think?"</p>

<p>"My friend Chunky Brown saw him here to-day."</p>

<p>"Saw him get out of the stage in front of this very hotel,"
nodded Stacy.</p>

<p>"You are right. He is here. Mr. Lasar had stopped off at a
near-by town on a personal matter. Can you describe the man whom
you saw with him on the train?"</p>

<p>"As I remember him, he was slightly taller than Mr. Lasar,
with red hair and a moustache of the same shade."</p>

<p>"Yes, that's Joe Comstock. No doubt about that," nodded Mr.
Marquand. "You didn't hear them say what their plan was,
then?"</p>

<p>"Not definitely. Only that they intended to rid themselves of
you after having obtained possession of your plans for finding
the treasure, or at least learning where it is hidden."</p>

<p>"Hm-m-m!"</p>

<p>Mr. Marquand sat thoughtfully silent for several minutes, the
lines of his face growing tense and hard. The boys could see that
he was exerting, a strong effort to control himself.</p>

<p>"You&mdash;you haven't told them your plans?" questioned Tad,
in a subdued voice.</p>

<p>"No. I was going to do so to-night, if Comstock had arrived.
He may get in yet."</p>

<p>"But you won't do so now&mdash;will you?"</p>

<p>"No! I thank you, boys," exclaimed their host, extending an
impulsive hand to each at the same time.</p>

<p>"Then&mdash;then our information <i>is</i> going to be of some
use to you?"</p>

<p>"More than you can have any idea of. You have done me a
greater service than you know. I thank you&mdash;thank you from
the bottom of my heart! Perhaps, ere long I may be able to show
my appreciation in a more substantial manner."</p>

<p>Marquand ceased speaking abruptly and began pacing back and
forth, hands thrust deep into his coat pockets. He was a man of
slight build, but strong and wiry. He was well past middle age,
erect and forceful. Looking at him, Tad found himself wondering
how such a man could have gotten into the clutches of two such
rascals as Bob Lasar and Joe Comstock. Tad hoped their host would
offer some explanation, while Chunky was nearly bursting with
curiosity. Mr. Marquand appeared to have forgotten their presence
entirely.</p>

<p>"I think we had better be going now," suggested Tad,
rising.</p>

<p>"Wait!" commanded their host. "Sit down! I have something to
say to you. Then, perhaps, I'll walk back to your camp and have a
talk with the Professor. What sort of man is your guide?"</p>

<p>"He's a very fine man&mdash;"</p>

<p>"That's my idea. What you heard on the train is borne out by
several little things that have come under my observation within
the last few days, but I did not think they would go as far as
you have indicated. I will tell you frankly, that I expect the
treasure which we hope to find to be a big one. How I happened to
take these men in with me, in the search for it, is unnecessary
to state. However, I am done with them, now, for good. They know
that I have not put my information on paper, or else they might
have made an end of me before this."</p>

<p>"Is the treasure near this vicinity, Mr. Marquand?" asked
Tad.</p>

<p>"About two days' journey. I expect to find it at or near the
ruins of an old Pueblo house. You know they built their homes one
on top of another. Some of their adobe houses are six and seven
stories high. Even if we locate the place, we may experience
great difficulty in finding that of which we are in search. How
would you boys like to join me? It will be an interesting
experience for you?"</p>

<p>"Help&mdash;help you find the buried treasure?" questioned
Chunky, his face red with suppressed excitement.</p>

<p>"Yes."</p>

<p>"Great!" chorused the lads.</p>

<p>"I'll talk with Professor Zepplin. Come, we will go over to
the camp now."</p>

<p>When Mr. Marquand and the Professor had finished their
conference, Tad and Chunky leaned forward eagerly to learn the
result.</p>

<p>"Yes," nodded Mr. Marquand; "you're all going to help me find
the ancient Pueblo treasure."</p>

<h3>CHAPTER XXII</h3>

<h4>IN HAND-TO-HAND CONFLICT</h4>

<p>"I'm done with you, Bob Lasar! And you, too, Comstock!"
thundered Mr. Marquand, as the rascals stood at the door of his
room some two hours later.</p>

<p>Mr. Marquand had been waiting for them, and with him was Tad
Butler, whom he had urged to accompany him back to the hotel that
he might be a witness to what took place. Perhaps, too, Mr.
Marquand reasoned that his former associates might not take the
same attitude toward him in the presence of the boy that they
might otherwise take.</p>

<p>The two men had halted in the doorway as Mr. Marquand hurled
his decision at them.</p>

<p>Lasar shoved his companion into the room and closed the
door.</p>

<p>"Sit down, both of you! So you thought to hoodwink me&mdash;to
get the secret of the treasure and then put me out of the way,
eh? That was your game, was it? Well, it's all off now. I'll have
nothing further to do with you."</p>

<p>"Why&mdash;why, Mr. Marquand, it's all a mistake!" began one
of the pair.</p>

<p>"Perhaps you'll deny having plotted against me on a train on
your way to Bluewater."</p>

<p>"I deny ever having tried to put up a game on&mdash;"</p>

<p>"Master Tad, did you ever see these men before?"</p>

<p>They turned on the lad quickly. Neither man had previously
observed him.</p>

<p>"Yes, sir."</p>

<p>"Where?"</p>

<p>"On the train, as you mentioned just now."</p>

<p>"And they were plotting my life?"</p>

<p>"So it seemed to me, sir."</p>

<p>"What have you to say to that?" demanded Mr. Marquand.</p>

<p>"That the boy lies!"</p>

<p>Tad's face flushed angrily.</p>

<p>"That'll do," said Marquand, more quietly.</p>

<p>"Then you believe him&mdash;you do not believe me?"</p>

<p>"I believe him. I know he has told me the truth. Now, it isn't
necessary to explain to you. You deserve no explanation and
you'll get none further than what you already have."</p>

<p>"But&mdash;"</p>

<p>"No 'buts' about it. I said I was done with you. Now, I want
you to get out of my sight! You're a couple of rogues&mdash;so
crooked that you can't walk straight."</p>

<p>Bob Lasar's face had grown livid with rage. His anger was
rapidly getting beyond all bounds. Tad observed it and saw the
storm coming. It arrived a moment later when Lasar whipped out a
revolver.</p>

<p>Before Mr. Marquand could make a move to draw his own weapon
Bob had aimed his weapon and pulled the trigger.</p>

<p>Tad, instantly divining the purpose of the man when he saw his
hand fly to the pistol holster under his coat, sprang
forward.</p>

<p>There was a deafening report. A bullet buried itself in the
ceiling of the room.</p>

<p>Tad had struck up the desperado's arm just in the nick of
time, thus preventing a terrible crime. But the end was not yet.
There were five more bullets in the cylinder of the weapon, as
the lad knew full well.</p>

<p>He grabbed Lasar's arm, hanging on desperately, at the same
time trying to get a wrestling hold.</p>

<p>The weapon went off again, this time sending a bullet into the
floor.</p>

<p>"Look out for the other fellow!" shouted Tad.</p>

<p>Mr. Marquand already had done so. Comstock had just made an
attempt to draw his own weapon when Marquand threw himself upon
the man. The two went crashing to the floor, while Tad and Lasar
were battling all over the room, the latter's weapon barking
viciously every little while.</p>

<p>Lasar was much more powerful than his slender antagonist, but
Tad being very quick on his feet managed to keep out of the way
of the revolver and at the same time to avoid being thrown.</p>

<p>Suddenly, the boy gave the gun-hand of his opponent a quick
twist.</p>

<p>Lasar uttered a sharp exclamation of pain. The revolver
clattered to the floor.</p>

<p>Quick as a flash, Tad threw a leg behind the knee of his
antagonist, gave it a quick jerk, with the result that Lasar went
to the floor with great violence.</p>

<p>By this time, occupants of the hotel were running down the
hall, while others were hammering at the door. Lasar had turned
the key upon entering the room.</p>

<p>Those within did not have time to listen to the demands of
those in the hall, who were demanding admission.</p>

<p>Mr. Marquand, as soon as he got his opponent down, quickly
disarmed him.</p>

<p>"Get up!" he commanded. "I don't want to kill you. I ought to
do so, but I won't."</p>

<p>He sprang from Comstock, and jerking Tad from Lasar, whom the
lad was making heroic efforts to hold down, pulled the fallen
rascal to his feet.</p>

<p>"Get out, both of you!" he commanded, covering both his
visitors with his weapon.</p>

<p>Lasar, in struggling to his feet, reached for his
revolver.</p>

<p>"Drop it or I'll fill you full of lead!"</p>

<p>At that instant, the door burst open and half a dozen men
sprang into the room.</p>

<p>Lasar, seeing that he was caught, leaped through the open
window. He was followed closely by Comstock. He, too, made a
clean leap, landing on the soft ground below.</p>

<p>"What's the meaning of this shooting?" shouted the proprietor,
his face flushed with anger.</p>

<p>"Two men tried to murder me," replied Marquand coolly.</p>

<p>"It looks as though you were doing your share of it," snapped
the proprietor, noting his guest's belligerent attitude and drawn
weapon.</p>

<p>Just then three shots in quick succession were fired from the
outside. Two of the bullets narrowly missed some of the men, who
had forced their way into the room.</p>

<p>As the third shot was fired, Tad threw one hand to his head;
then drew it away grinning.</p>

<p>"Those rascals have evidently gotten a new supply of fire
arms," he said.</p>

<p>A bullet had gone through his hair and his scalp burned where
the lead had brushed it.</p>

<p>All of the newcomers drew their revolvers and sprang to the
window.</p>

<p>"Don't shoot!" cried the Pony Rider Boy; "You'll hit the wrong
one. There are a hundred people down there."</p>

<p>"He's right!" shouted Mr. Marquand, pushing his way between
the men and the window, at the imminent risk of getting a bullet
in his back from either Lasar or Comstock. "Let 'em go. They'll
be running for home about this time. They are a couple of
scoundrels, sir."</p>

<p>"But the damage. Look at my fine room."</p>

<p>"I'll pay for the damage, and I'll quit your hotel now. I've
had enough of the place," retorted Mr. Marquand, pulling a roll
of bills from his pocket. "How much is it?"</p>

<p>"Well, you see&mdash;"</p>

<p>"How much is it?"</p>

<p>"Well, I guess twenty-five would be about right. You
see&mdash;"</p>

<p>"Here's your twenty-five. Clear out!"</p>

<p>With many apologies the proprietor, accompanied by the others,
backed from the room.</p>

<p>"We came pretty near having a fight, didn't we?" Marquand
smiled, looking at Tad for the first time since the disturbance
began.</p>

<p>"Almost."</p>

<p>"He would have got me if you hadn't knocked up his gun-hand.
That's another one I owe you. Well, maybe we'll have a pay day
soon."</p>

<p>"You had better go back to camp with me, and bunk in with us
to-night," suggested the lad, "We shall want to make an early
start in the morning, anyway. I think it will be safer there,
too. That pair won't dare come fooling around our camp, knowing
they can't trifle with us," added the lad, with a note of pride
in his tone.</p>

<p>"I'll do it. Not that I'm afraid of anything that walks on two
legs, but the sooner we hitch up the better it'll be. Got room
enough?"</p>

<p>"Plenty. Where's your pony?"</p>

<p>"Up near your camp. Come on."</p>

<p>The man and the boy walked from the hotel, the former looking
neither to the right nor to the left, Tad observing their
surroundings half</p>

<p>suspiciously. He was sure they had not yet heard the last of
Bob Lasar and Joe Comstock. In this he was right.</p>

<p>Marquand and the boy had gone no more than ten rods from the
hotel, when the report of a revolver was heard, and a bullet
fired from the corner of an adobe building passed within an inch
of Mr. Marquand's head.</p>

<p>With wonderful quickness the latter drew and sent three shots
at the flash.</p>

<p>Whether he had hit any thing or not he did not know.</p>

<p>"Run! I don't want you to get hit," cried the boy's new
friend, grasping Tad by the hand and starting off at a brisk
pace.</p>

<p>"Bullets don't scare me, so long as they don't hit me,"
laughed young Butler.</p>

<h3>CHAPTER XXIII</h3>

<h4>MOONBEAM POINTS THE WAY</h4>

<p>The moon will be here in a moment."</p>

<p>"What was it the old Pueblo chief said, Mr. Marquand?"</p>

<p>"'When the full of the moon has come and shoots its first
arrow over the crests of the Guadalupes, it points the way to the
treasure of my ancient people,'" quoted Mr. Marquand.</p>

<p>"I presume that would be taken to mean that, at a certain
phase of the moon, one of its beams points to where the treasure
is hidden," explained Professor Zepplin. "But what leads you to
believe this is the Pueblo village of your particular chief's
ancestors?"</p>

<p>"Yes; I don't see why it might not be any of the ruined adobe
houses in this valley?" said Ned Rector.</p>

<p>They had journeyed rapidly over mountain and plain to the
valley of the Guadalupes, where Mr. Marquand had informed them
that he expected to find the treasure. In the three days consumed
on the journey, the travelers had seen nothing of either Lasar or
Comstock. Evidently the pair had decided to leave the country
while they still had the chance, fearing that perhaps Mr.
Marquand might invoke the aid of the law to rid himself of them
if they remained.</p>

<p>The Pony Rider Boys and their outfit had arrived that
afternoon, and during the remaining hours of daylight they had
been excitedly exploring the ancient dwellings, most of which
were in a dilapidated condition. There was one, however, two
stories in height, that was in an excellent state of
preservation. In fact it appeared as if it had only recently been
vacated. After an examination of all the ruins Mr. Marquand had
discovered what led him to believe that this was the structure
which the old Pueblo chief referred to in his description of the
resting place of the treasure. The chief had said he had never
been near the spot. He was the only member of his tribe to whom
the secret had been handed down, and he in turn had transmitted
it to the white man who now stood within the shadow of the
ancient dwelling place.</p>

<p>"I have my reasons for believing this is the place," answered
Mr. Marquand, in response to the Professor's question. "If I am
wrong, we shall have to wait until the moon rises to-morrow
night. Come inside now, and we will close the door."</p>

<p>All hands crowded into the cool chamber, closing the heavy
wooden door that barred the entrance.</p>

<p>"Don't see how moonlight can get through solid walls,"
muttered Stacy. "Ought to leave the door open."</p>

<p>No one answered him. In the darkened chamber, with its
peculiar, musty odors, the boys did not feel in the mood for
hilarity or even for speech. There was something about their
situation that seemed to impress them profoundly.</p>

<p>"Stand over against the wall on the side, so as not to
obstruct any light that might possibly get in here," directed Mr.
Marquand.</p>

<p>The others moved silently to the side of the room indicated by
him. They had stood thus for fully five minutes when an
exclamation from Stacy broke the stillness harshly.</p>

<p>"Look! Look!" cried the fat boy.</p>

<p>A slender shaft of light had suddenly pierced the blackness,
coming they knew not whence. It was there.</p>

<p>"Must be a pin hole through the wall up near the ceiling,"
suggested Kris Kringle.</p>

<p>The silver thread shot across the chamber, ending abruptly on
the adobe floor some three feet from the back wall.</p>

<p>"That's the spot!" shouted Mr. Marquand triumphantly.</p>

<p>He threw himself on the floor, and with his knife scratched a
cross on the spot where the moonbeam rested. Scarcely had he done
so when the delicate shaft of light disappeared as suddenly as it
had come.</p>

<p>"It's gone," breathed the boys.</p>

<p>"But it has pointed the way."</p>

<p>"And we have followed the silver trail to its end," added Ned
Rector poetically.</p>

<p>"Bring the tools!" cried Mr. Marquand.</p>

<p>While they were doing so, he struck a match and lighted the
lantern that they had brought with them from their camp in the
foothills. His first care was to bar the door with the heavy
wooden timber that he had cut and which he now slipped into its
fastenings.</p>

<p>A close examination of the floor revealed no marks save those
put there by the treasure-hunter's knife.</p>

<p>"This house seems to be built on the solid ground. I do not
think you will find anything under it," protested the
Professor.</p>

<p>"There are houses under every one of these buildings,"
answered Mr. Marquand. He held a short, keen edged bar in place,
while Kris Kringle swung the maul. Gradually they cut a ring
about two feet in diameter about the cross. The material of which
the floor had been made had been tempered with the years and was
almost as hard as flint.</p>

<p>The steady thud of the heavy maul, accompanied by the click,
click of the cutting bar, the dim light, the silent, expectant
faces, formed a weird picture in this silent desert place.</p>

<p>After a full half hour of this the two men paused, and stood
back, drawing sleeves across their foreheads to wipe away the
perspiration.</p>

<p>Stacy Brown walked pompously over to the circle.</p>

<p>"Maybe I can fall through it. If I can't, nobody can," he
said, jumping up and down on the spot where they had been
cutting.</p>

<p>There followed a rambling sound, and with a yell, Stacy Brown
suddenly disappeared from sight. In place of the circle in which
he had been standing was a black, ragged hole, from which
particles of the mortar were still crumbling and rattling to the
bottom of the pit.</p>

<p>"Are you there?" cried Kris Kringle, leaping to the spot,
thrusting the lantern down through the opening. "Master
Stacy!"</p>

<p>"Wow!" responded the boy from the depths.</p>

<p>"Did it hurt you?"</p>

<p>"How far did you fall?"</p>

<p>This and other questions were hurled at the fat boy, as his
companions crowded about the opening.</p>

<p>"I'm killed. That'll answer all your questions," replied
Stacy. "Hurry up! Get my remains out of this place."</p>

<p>The rays of the lantern disclosed a short stairway, built of
the same material of which the house itself had been
constructed.</p>

<p>Mr. Marquand forced himself past the guide and was down the
steps in a twinkling. He was followed by the wondering Pony Rider
Boys, Professor Zepplin and Kris Kringle in short order, for all
crowded down through the narrow opening.</p>

<p>Chunky had hit the top step and rolled all the way down. He
had scrambled to his feet and was rubbing his shins by the time
his friends reached him. His clothes were torn and he was covered
with dust.</p>

<p>"Fell down the cellar, didn't I?" he grinned.</p>

<p>But no one gave any heed to him now. Mr. Marquand had snatched
at the lantern and was running from point to point of the chamber
in which they found themselves. He was laboring under great
excitement.</p>

<p>"Here's another opening," he shouted. "We haven't got to the
bottom yet."</p>

<p>Another flight of stairs led to still another and smaller
chamber below. Mr. Marquand let out a yell the moment he reached
the bottom. The others rushed pell-mell after him.</p>

<p>There, with it's top just showing above the dirt was a long
iron chest.</p>

<p>"Give me the maul!" shouted the excited treasure seeker.</p>

<p>He attacked the rusty iron fastenings; at last the cover
yielded to his thunderous blows and falling on its edge, toppled
over to the floor with a crash.</p>

<p>"Somebody's old clothes," chuckled Stacy, peering into the
open chest.</p>

<p>The garments, priestly robes that lay at the top, fell to
pieces the instant Mr. Marquand laid violent hands on them.</p>

<p>"Look! Look! Was I right or was I wrong?" he cried, beside
himself with joy.</p>

<p>There, before their astonished eyes, lay a chest of gold&mdash;
coins dulled by age, small nuggets and chunks of silver, all
heaped indiscriminately in the treasure chest.</p>

<p>"I did it!" shouted Chunky. "I did it with my little feet! I
fell in and discovered the treasure!"</p>

<p>The tongues of the Pony Rider Boys were suddenly loosened.
Such a shout as they set up probably never had been heard before
in the ancient adobe mansion of the Pueblos. Cheer after cheer
echoed through the chambers and reached the ears of a dozen
desperadoes who were skulking amid the sage brush without.</p>

<p>Professor Zepplin scooped up a handful of the coins and
examined them under the lantern.</p>

<p>"Old Spanish coins," he informed them. "Pure gold. And look at
these nuggets! Where do you suppose the Indians found them?"</p>

<p>"There are hidden mines in the State," informed Mr. Marquand.
"Some of these days they will be discovered. I have been hunting
for them myself, but without success. Boys, what do you think of
it now? If it had not been for you I might never have seen this
sight."</p>

<p>Their eyes were fairly bulging as they gazed at the heap of
gold. Chunky squatted down scooping up a double handful and
letting the coins run through his fingers. Then the other boys
dipped in, laughing for pure joy, more because their adventure
had borne fruit than for the love of the gold itself.</p>

<p>"Must be more'n a bushel of it," announced Stacy.</p>

<p>"Those old Franciscans must have been saving up for a rainy
day. And it never rained here at all," suggested Ned
humorously.</p>

<p>"Shall we count it?" asked Mr. Marquand.</p>

<p>"Just as you wish," replied the Professor.</p>

<p>"Were I in your place, Mr. Marquand, I should get the stuff
out of here as soon as possible. You can't tell what may happen.
I would suggest that we secure the treasure and be on our way at
once. You will want to get it to a bank as quickly as possible.
This is one of the things that cannot be kept quiet."</p>

<p>"You are right. Will somebody go over to the camp and get
those gunny sacks of mine? I don't want to lose sight of my find
for a minute. You know how I feel about it&mdash;not that I do
not trust you. You know&mdash;"</p>

<p>"Surely we understand," smiled Tad.</p>

<p>"And you all have an interest in it&mdash;you shall share the
treasure with me&mdash;"</p>

<p>"No, we don't," shouted the boys. "We've had more than a
million dollars worth of fun out of it already."</p>

<p>"Certainly not," added the Professor.</p>

<p>"We'll discuss that later," said Mr. Marquand firmly. "Just
now we must take care of what we have found. Who will get the
bags?"</p>

<p>"We will," answered the boys promptly.</p>

<p>"No; you stay here. I'll get them," answered Kris Kringle.
"Light me up the stairs so I don't break my neck in this old
rookery.</p>

<p>One of the boys lighted the way to the next floor, then
stepped back into the cellar, where Mr. Marquand was turning over
the treasure in an effort to find out if the pile extended all
the way to the bottom of the chest.</p>

<p>In the meantime Kris Kringle unbarred the door and threw it
part way open. He did it cautiously, as if half expecting
trouble.</p>

<p>He threw the door to with a bang, springing to one side, and
dropping the bar back into place.</p>

<p>The reason for his sudden change of plans was that no sooner
had the door opened than several thirty-eight calibre bullets
were fired from the sage brush outside.</p>

<p>Kris Kringle waited to learn whether those in the cellar had
heard the shots. But they had not. They were some distance below
ground, and their minds were wholly taken up with the great
treasure before them.</p>

<p>After a few moments the guide once more removed the bar, first
having drawn his revolver in case of sudden surprise. Then he
cautiously opened the door an inch or so.</p>

<p>At first nothing happened. The moonlit landscape lay as silent
and peaceful as if there were not a human being on the
desert.</p>

<p>There were six distinct flashes all at once and a rain of lead
showered into the door.</p>

<p>Kris Kringle took a pot shot at one of the flashes, then
slammed the door shut and barred it.</p>

<p>"Well; I hope that would get you," he muttered.</p>

<p>Hastily retracing his steps he called the party up to the
second cellar.</p>

<p>"Did you fetch the sacks?" called Mr. Marquand.</p>

<p>"No, but I've fetched trouble. It's coming in sackfuls."</p>

<p>"What do you mean?"</p>

<p>"We're besieged."</p>

<p>"Besieged?" wondered the Professor.</p>

<p>"Yes; there's a crowd outside, and they've been trying to
shoot me up. Must be some of your friends, Mr. Marquand."</p>

<p>"Lasar and Comstock? The scoundrels!" growled Mr. Marquand.
"But we'll make short work of them."</p>

<p>"Not so easy as you think There are more than two out
there&mdash;there's a crowd and they've got rifles. Our rifles
are over in the camp. I've got a six-shooter and so have you, but
what do they amount to against half a dozen rifles?"</p>

<p>"I'll talk to them, if I can get any place to make them hear,"
announced Mr. Marquand, starting up the stairs.</p>

<p>"I reckon there's a window on the second floor, but you'd
better be careful that you don't get winged," warned the
guide.</p>

<p>Mr. Marquand went right on, and the others followed. As the
guide had said there was a small window on the floor above the
ground, apparently the only one in the house.</p>

<p>Mr. Marquand hailed the besiegers.</p>

<p>"Who are you and what do you mean by shooting us up in this
fashion?" he demanded.</p>

<p>"You ought to know who we are, Jim Marquand, and you know what
we want!"</p>

<p>"Yes, I know you all right, Lasar, and I'll make you smart for
this."</p>

<p>"The place is as much mine as it is yours," answered Lasar.
"And I propose to take it! If you'll make an even divvy of what
you have found, or expect to find, we'll go away and let you
alone. If you don't we'll take the whole outfit."</p>

<p>"Take it, take it!" jeered Marquand. "You couldn't take it in
a hundred years&mdash;not unless you used artillery."</p>

<p>"Then we'll starve you out," replied the man in the sage
brush.</p>

<p>"Look out!" warned the guide.</p>

<p>Mr. Marquand sprang to one side just as a volley crashed
through the opening, the bullets rattling to the floor after
bounding back from the flint-like walls.</p>

<p>"I guess they've got you, Mr. Marquand. We can't hold out
forever. If we had rifles we could pick them off by daylight. But
when morning comes they'll draw back out of revolver range and
plunk the first man who shows himself outside. Have you any title
to this property?"</p>

<p>"Yes. I have bought up a hundred acres about here. The deeds
are in my pocket. I guess nobody has a better title.".</p>

<p>"His title is all right," spoke up Professor Zepplin. "I made
sure of that before I decided to come with Mr. Marquand."</p>

<p>"Then there's only one thing to be done."</p>

<p>"What's that?"</p>

<p>"Get a sheriff's posse and bag the whole bunch."</p>

<p>Mr. Marquand laughed harshly.</p>

<p>"If we were in a position to get a posse we should be able to
get away without one. I think we had better go below. This is not
a very safe place with this open window."</p>

<p>"I'll remain here."</p>

<p>"What for, Kringle?"</p>

<p>"Somebody's got to watch the front door to see that they don't
play any tricks on us. It's clouding up, and if the night gets
dark they'll try to get in."</p>

<p>"How far is it to a place where we could get a sheriff?" asked
Tad, who had been thinking deeply.</p>

<p>"Hondo. Fifteen miles due east of here as the moon rises.
Why?"</p>

<p>"If I were sure I could find my way, I think I might get some
help," answered the lad quietly.</p>

<p>"You!" snapped Mr. Marquand, turning on him.</p>

<p>"If I had a rope. Perhaps I can do it without one."</p>

<p>"I'd like to know how?"</p>

<p>Mr. Marquand was inclined to treat the proposition lightly,
believing that such a move as proposed by Tad Butler was an
impossibility. Kris Kringle, however, was regarding the boy
inquiringly. He knew that Tad had some plan in mind and that it
was likely to be a good one.</p>

<p>"The rascals are all out in front of the house, aren't
they?"</p>

<p>"Yes, Master Tad. There's no reason why they should be behind
the house. They know we can't get out that way; because there is
no opening on that side."</p>

<p>Tad nodded.</p>

<p>"Then I can do it."</p>

<p>"Tad, what foolish idea have you in mind now? I cannot consent
to your taking any more chances</p>

<p>"Professor, we are taking long enough chances as it is. Unless
we are relieved soon, we shall be starved out and perhaps
worse."</p>

<p>"What's your plan?" interrupted Kris Kringle.</p>

<p>"See that hole in the roof up there?" Tad pointed.</p>

<p>They had not seen it before, but they did now. A light
suddenly dawned upon Kris Kringle.</p>

<p>"Boy, you are the only level-headed one in the outfit. You
would have made a corking Indian fighter."</p>

<p>"I'm the Indian fighter," chimed in Stacy.</p>

<p>"You can boost me up to the hole and I'll go over the rear of
the house, get to the camp and from there ride to Hondo."</p>

<p>Tad's three companions started a cheer, which the guide
sternly put down.</p>

<p>"I can't consent to any such plan," decided the Professor
sternly.</p>

<p>The rest reasoned with him until, finally, he did consent,
though he knew the lad would be taking desperate chances. Tad
understood that as well as the rest of them, but he was burning
to be off.</p>

<p>Kris Kringle gave him careful directions as to how to get to
the place.</p>

<p>"Take your rifle with you, if you can get it. After you get
half a mile or a mile away shoot once. That will tell us you are
all right."</p>

<p>"You can help me in getting away from here, if you will do
some shooting to cover my escape," suggested Tad.</p>

<p>"That's a good idea," agreed the guide. "You wait on the roof
until we begin to rake the sage with our revolvers. Then drop.
Take a wide circuit, so that you won't stumble over the
enemy."</p>

<p>Tad gave his belt a hitch, stuffed his sombrero under it and
announced himself as ready.</p>

<p>The guide stepped under the hole. Tad quickly climbed to his
shoulder and stood up like a circus performer. He could easily
reach the roof with his hands. A second more and his feet were
lifted from the shoulders of the guide. They saw the figure in
the opening; then it disappeared.</p>

<p>A slight scraping noise was the only sound they heard.</p>

<p>Tad flattened himself out and wriggled along toward the rear
of the roof. Peering over the edge he made sure that there was no
one about. He then lay quietly waiting for the shooting to
begin.</p>

<p>"Let 'em have it," directed Kris Kringle.</p>

<p>A sudden fusillade was emptied into the sage brush.</p>

<p>Tad swung himself over the edge of the roof, hung on for a few
seconds, then dropped lightly to the ground.</p>

<h3>CHAPTER XXlV</h3>

<h4>CONCLUSION</h4>

<p>The enemy answered the shots with a volley, and for a few
moments a lot of ammunition was wasted while the odor of
gunpowder assailed nostrils on both sides.</p>

<p>After that, the shooting died away. As the minutes lengthened
into an hour, and no word of Tad's mission had been received, the
defenders began to grow restless. They were under a double
tension now. Mr. Marquand was pacing up and down the floor.</p>

<p>Suddenly, forgetful of the danger that lurked out there, he
poked his head out of the window.</p>

<p>A sharp <i>pat</i> on the stone window frame beside him, after
the bullet had snipped off the tip of his left ear, caused Mr.
Marquand to draw back suddenly. He stalked about the floor,
holding a handkerchief to the wounded ear, "talking in dashes and
asterisks," as Chunky put it.</p>

<p>Kris Kringle's face wore a grim smile. He was taking chances
of being shot, every second now, but he insisted in holding his
place at the side of the window so he could listen and watch.</p>

<p>A thin, fleecy veil covered the moon, but it was not dense
enough to fully hide objects on the landscape.</p>

<p>"All keep quiet, now," warned Kris Kringle. "We should get a
signal pretty soon."</p>

<p>"I'm afraid something has happened to the boy," muttered the
Professor. Then all fell silent.</p>

<p>"There it goes!" exclaimed the guide in a tone of great
relief.</p>

<p>The crack of a rifle afar off sounded clear and distinct.</p>

<p>"He's made it. Thank heaven!" breathed Mr. Marquand
fervently.</p>

<p>Chunky leaped to the opening, swung his sombrero as he leaned
out, and uttered a long, shrill "y-e-o-w!"</p>

<p>A bullet chipped the adobe at his side. Stacy ducked, throwing
himself on the floor, sucking a thumb energetically.</p>

<p>"Wing you?" inquired Kris Kringle.</p>

<p>"Somebody burned my thumb," wailed the fat boy.</p>

<p>"It was a bullet that burned you. Served you right too.
Somebody tie that boy up or he'll be killed," counseled the
guide.</p>

<p>The besiegers could not have failed to hear the shot from
Tad's rifle, but it did not seem to disturb them. They evidently
did not even dream that one of the party had escaped their
vigilance and that he was well on his way for assistance.</p>

<p>The wait from that time on was a tedious and trying one,
though each felt a certain sense of elation that Tad Butler had
succeeded in outwitting the enemy.</p>

<p>It was shortly after two o'clock in the morning when Kris
Kringle espied a party of horsemen slowly encircling the adobe
house. The riders were strung out far off on the plain. Those
hiding in the sage in front of the house could not see the
approaching horsemen.</p>

<p>"There they come," whispered Kris Kringle. "Begin
shooting!"</p>

<p>The two men started firing, while the besiegers poured volley
after volley through the window.</p>

<p>The posse at this, closed in at a gallop. Their rifles now
began to crash.</p>

<p>In a few minutes it was all over. The sheriff's men surrounded
the besiegers, placing every man of them under arrest. After this
the officers quickly liberated the Pony Rider Boys. Three of the
besiegers had been wounded. Among them, was the Mexican whom Tad
had defeated in the tilting game a few days before.</p>

<p>When all was over, the boys hoisted Tad Butler on their
shoulders and marched around the adobe house shouting and
singing. Mr. Marquand decided to go back with the posse, using
these men as a guard for his treasure. It was understood that the
Pony Rider Boys were to follow the next morning. Before leaving,
Mr. Marquand called the Professor aside.</p>

<p>"There is, on a rough estimate, all of sixty thousand dollars
in the treasure chest. Had it not been for you and your brave
boys I should have lost it. So, when you reach Hondo to-morrow, I
shall take great pleasure in presenting to each of you a draft
for two thousand dollars."</p>

<p>Professor Zepplin protested, but Mr. Marquand insisted, and he
kept his word. After the posse, with their prisoners and the
treasure, had started, the Pony Rider Boys, arm in arm, started
off across the moonlit meadows toward their camp. It was their
last night in camp. Their summer's journeyings had come to an
end&mdash;a fitting close to their adventurous travels. Not a
word did they speak until they reached the camp. There, they
turned and gazed off over the plain which was all silvered under
the now clear light of the moon.</p>

<p>"It has been a silver trail," mused Tad Butler.</p>

<p>"It has indeed," breathed his companions</p>

<p>"And we've reached the end of The Silver Trail," added the
Professor, coming up at that moment. "To-morrow I'll breathe the
first free breath that I've drawn in three months."</p>

<p>The boys circled slowly around him and joined hands. Then
their voices rose on the mellow desert air to the tune of</p>

<p align="Center" class="center">"Home, Sweet Home."</p>

<p>A week later saw the wanderers back in Chillicothe. Their
welcome was a warm one. Banker Perkins found his once ailing son
now transformed into a sturdy young giant.</p>

<p>We shall meet them again in the next volume of this
series&mdash;in a tale of surpassing wonders&mdash;published
under the title: "THE PONY RIDER BOYS IN THE GRAND CANYON; Or,
the Mystery of Bright Angel Gulch." It will be found to be by far
the most interesting volume so far published about the splendid
Pony Rider Boys.</p>

<h4>The End.</h4>

<pre>
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