The Pony Rider Boys in Montana Part 24

Tad rode in as fresh as if he had not had a sleepless vigil. His rest of late had been more or less irregular, but it seemed to have not the slightest effect either on his spirits or his appet.i.te.

All felt the relief from the strain of the night's watching and it was a more sociable company that gathered at the table than had been the case on the previous evening.

"Well, how do you like being a sheepman?" asked Mr. Simms jovially.

"It's better than being lost in the mountains and being shot at by cowmen," averred Tad.

"Perhaps you'll have a chance to enjoy the latter pleasure, still,"

said Mr. Simms. "I do not delude myself that we are out of danger yet; it may be that they have taken warning and given it up."

"What are the plans for to-day?" asked Ned Rector.

"The herd will graze on, and later in the day we shall move the camp five or six miles up the range. See any Indians last night?"

"No," answered the boys, sobering a little.

"Old Hicks is authority for the statement that they were hovering somewhere near during the night."

"How does he know?" asked Tad.

"You'll have to make inquiry of Hicks himself if you want to find out," laughed the rancher. "Probably the same way that he knows we are talking about him now."

All eyes were directed toward the cook.

Hicks was limping around the mutton kettle, shaking his fist at it and berating it, though in a voice too low for them to hear.

"That's one of your cattle men for you," chuckled Mr. Simms. "I think he would take genuine pleasure in boiling a sheepman in his pot. But he takes the money," added Mr. Simms significantly. "By the way, where's your chum?"

"Whom do you mean?" asked Walter, glancing about the table.

"Chunky, I believe you call him."

"That's so, where is he?" demanded Tad, laying down his fork.

"Probably fallen in somewhere again," growled Ned.

"Did not Master Stacy come in with you, Ned?" asked the Professor hurriedly.

"No, sir."

"He was with you last night?"

"No, not all the time. He went out with me, but I saw him only twice during the early part of my watch."

Mr. Simms looked serious. "I hope nothing has happened to him. See here, Luke. They tell me Master Stacy has not been seen this morning. Know anything of it?"

"Why, no. Are you sure? Have you looked in his tent?"

"Excuse me, I'll go see if he isn't there," said Tad, rising from the table and hurrying to the tent occupied by his companion.

"No," he said as he returned; "evidently he has not been there since we went out at midnight."

"Ask Old Hicks if he has seen him come in," directed Mr. Simms.

The cook said he had not set eyes on the fat boy, adding that he didn't care a rap if he never came back.

The boys looked at each other with mute, questioning eyes.

"We must go in search of him at once," decided the Professor.

"Yes, don't worry, Professor," calmed the rancher. "He has probably strayed off by himself and is unable to find his way back. Luke will round him up in short order. Finish your breakfast, everybody, then we will see that the young man is brought back. Funny he should have gotten away without any one's having noticed it."

"He's always getting himself into trouble," declared Ned.

"I thought I was the only one that did that," retorted Tad, with an attempt at gayety.

"That's different. I know what I'm talking about. Something is sure to happen to that boy before we are ready to go back home."

"Begins to look as if something had already happened," said Walter.

A wild yell startled the sheepmen at the table. It seemed to come from some distance away.

Everybody started up, some reaching for their guns.

"We are attacked!" cried one.

"No, but we're going to be!" shouted another. "There comes one of the boys on a pony giving the alarm."

"Get ready, everybody!"

The camp was in instant confusion. In their haste to prepare for action, the table was upset and its contents piled in a confused heap. Old Hicks was roaring out his displeasure, the foreman was shouting out his orders, while Professor Zepplin was seeking to make himself heard in an effort to give directions to his charges.

Suddenly the voice of the foreman was heard above the uproar.

"Hold on!" he shouted. "It's one of our own--it's------Oh, bah!"

"What is it? What is it!" cried Mr. Simms, unlimbering his weapon.

"It's Chunky," snorted Ned Rector disgustedly. "The fat boy has been falling in again or I'll eat mutton all the rest of my natural life."

"It sure enough is he," answered Tad, gazing off at the horseman who was riding at top speed and trying to urge his pony on still faster. "I wonder what he has been getting into this time. Hope it's nothing serious."

"Not to him, anyway, judging by the way he is riding," replied Walter.

"Something has given him a mighty good start, anyhow," shrewdly decided the foreman.

"I know what it is--I know what he's in such a hurry about," said Ned.

"What?" asked Walter.