The Pony Rider Boys in the Ozarks Part 15

"I wouldn't worry," comforted Walter Perkins. "You all know Tad, and you know he isn't a boy that you can lose so easily. I'll bet my share in the next meal that he's back here before dark this afternoon."

This confidence brightened the others visibly.

"That's right," agreed Ned. "You can't down Tad. I guess I'll go water my pony and give him some fresh trees to eat up while some of you are starting the fire. We had better eat, anyway."

"What is there to eat?" asked the Professor.

"Beans, that's all, and not much of that. Unless we get the stuff down there, we won't have another meal to-day."

The other two boys began preparing for the camp-fire. Ned had been gone only a few moments when he returned on a run.

"Boys! Boys!" he cried.

"What is it? What is it?" they exclaimed in sudden alarm.

"The ponies! The ponies!"

"What about them?" asked Walter, pausing as he was about to strike a match to the wood.

"Yes, what of them, Master Ned? Has anything happened to them?"

asked the Professor, striding toward the excited Ned Rector.

"Happened? I should say there had--"

"Well, what is it? Don't keep us waiting in suspense all--"

"They're gone!"

"Gone?" exclaimed the two boys in chorus.

"It can't be possible."

"Two of them are. They have broken away, I think. It must have happened late last night, for I looked at them just before going to bed, and they were all asleep then."

"Whi--which ponies--which ones are gone?" asked Walter apprehensively.

"Chunky's and Tad's."

"Is it possible?" sputtered the Professor, striding to the place where their stock had been tethered.

"Yes, they've broken away," he decided, observing that a piece of stake rope belonging to each had been broken short off. "Look around, boys. They cannot be far away. Probably got hungry and concluded to look for some tender bushes to browse on."

The boys, thus encouraged, hastened to begin their search for the missing stock.

"They went this way," shouted Ned.

All hands hurried to him.

"Yes, there's their tracks," agreed the Professor. "Now follow them, but look out that you do not get lost."

Instead, a few moments afterward, they lost the trail. It disappeared from before them as utterly as if the ponies had walked on air from that point on. No amount of searching brought it to view again, and after more than an hour of persistent effort, the Professor called the hunt off, and the crestfallen party returned to camp.

"What are we going to do?" asked Stacy dolefully.

"I know what you are going to do," returned Ned.

"What?"

"You're going to ride a mule from this point on."

CHAPTER VIII

THE INDIAN MAKES A DISCOVERY

It was not a cheerful breakfast to which the lads sat down. It seemed as if nothing but trouble had overtaken them ever since they had been in the Ozark Mountains.

They had just finished when the Indian rode in on Ned's mount, which he had chosen for his journey.

This was something at least to detract their attention from their troubles.

"Hey, you haven't got back, have you?" taunted Ned, noting the flecks of foam on his pony with disapproving eyes.

"Me back," grinned the Indian.

"I see you are," replied the Professor dryly. "Where's the rope?"

"Yes; we don't care so much about seeing you, but we want that rope,"

added Ned emphatically.

"No got um."

"Do you mean to say you have been gone nearly twenty-four hours and have not found a rope?" demanded Professor Zepplin.

"No rope," persisted the guide sullenly.

"Why not?" demanded Ned, steadying himself, for he was more wrought up than he wished to admit, even to himself.

The Shawnee shrugged his shoulders.

"Where's that rope?" snapped Chunky, with sudden new-found courage, facing the guide at close quarters.

"No get um! No get um!" insisted the Indian, gesticulating extravagantly.

"Yes, but why not, why not?" urged the Professor.