The Pony Rider Boys with the Texas Rangers Part 22

"What was it you think they had up their sleeves?" asked Tad, eyeing the fat boy with growing suspicion.

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe it was insects."

"Stacy!" rebuked the professor sternly. Tad recalled that he had discovered thousands of insects crawling over the burlap sack when he came out in the morning. The lad's mind began to unravel the mystery. He thought he understood Chunky's references now, but Tad only smiled. He made no effort to explain, but instead, changed the subject.

"Do we start, or do we remain here, Professor?" he asked.

"It shall be as you boys wish. All in favor of going on will say 'aye.'"

"Aye!" howled the Pony Rider Boys, a shout that caused the browsing ponies to look up in mild surprise.

"Then we move. I will say, however, that I don't exactly approve of the situation."

"What situation, Professor?" questioned Butler.

"There are too many rough men in these parts. I had no idea we were going to meet with any such condition of affairs in this enlightened state."

"That's nothing. We have had some experience. Experience is what we are looking for."

"But the Rangers were not," a.s.serted Stacy thickly, his mouth full of biscuit. "They got it, though."

"I feel sorry for you," said Tad leaning over to Stacy.

"Sorry for what?"

"For what you'll catch when they get hold of you again."

"They'd better not. I've got something up my sleeve, or I will have, I mean. They'd better keep away from me."

"Come, fellows, are you going to strike camp while I clear away the breakfast things?" called Tad.

"Let Chunky do it. He hasn't done a thing this morning," cried Ned.

"Yes, I have, too."

"What have you done?"

"I've done two things this morning."

"That's news," grinned Walter.

"Yes, name them. We don't want to do you an injustice, you know," urged Rector sarcastically.

"I made a discovery---I discovered that we had been basely deserted."

"Well, that's only one thing. You said you had done two things,"

persisted Ned.

"Then I ate my breakfast. That's two things."

The boys groaned.

"He ate his breakfast. Most remarkable," scoffed Rector, imitating the professor's voice and manner, whereat the professor himself grinned broadly.

Tad, giving up expecting the others to do anything, was rapidly gathering their equipment together. The tent came down. He divided it into sections, placing the sections in piles preparatory to forming them into bundles to be packed on the ponies.

"Have you the map, Professor?" he called.

"In my saddle bag."

"I want to study it a minute before we start. We don't know anything about the trails here and we have no guide to direct us. We've got to make our way the best we can."

"We can't get lost," chimed in Chunky.

"Why can't we get lost?" snapped Ned turning on the fat boy.

"Because we don't know where we are anyway."

"Horse sense," laughed Tad.

"Fat-boy drivel," jeered Ned.

"Come, come, young men. You are not making much headway."

Stacy dragged his pack by the rope, over to his pony, instead of carrying the bundle as he should have done, Professor Zepplin observing the boy with disapproving gaze.

"Is that the way you have been taught to pack your pony, sir?"

"No. I've never been taught. What I know I've had to pick up. n.o.body ever tries to teach me anything."

Scolding, joking, having all manner of sport with one another, the Pony Rider Boys finally completed their tasks. The ponies were loaded, the pack pony was piled high so that its head and legs were about the only parts of its anatomy visible, and the boys climbed into their saddles, Tad first having given the trail map a brief scrutiny.

They started off up the canyon. For a little way the trail appeared to be no trail at all. The ponies threshed through the bushes, the sharp limbs smiting the riders in the faces, making disagreeable traveling. But the young men were used to this sort of thing. They did not appear to mind it at all.

Reaching a higher alt.i.tude they found the trail to be fairly good.

From there they got a good view of the yellow plains below, that stretch away many miles to the northward. To the southwest, peaks that they judged must be all of four or five thousand feet high, towered blue and hazy in the yellow light. Birds were singing, the air was soft and balmy and a gentle breeze stirred the foliage about them lazily.

"This is what I call fine," cried Tad.

"Good place for a nap," agreed Chunky.

"Are you in need of sleep?" asked the professor.

"I'm in a trance, sir."

"You always are," laughed Tad Butler. "I think we had better take a rest here. The animals are tired after the climb. Suppose we lie off for an hour?"

The boys were all agreed on this, so the pack pony was unloaded. It now being near midday it was decided to wait for dinner before pressing on. A meal was a "dab" down there and the boys had fallen naturally into the vernacular of the men of the plains.