Frontispiece: "I Fine You One Hundred Dollars and Costs!"

The Pony Rider Boys in New England

or

An Exciting Quest in the Maine Wilderness

by Frank Gee Patchin

Author of the Pony Rider Boys in the Rockies, The Pony Rider
Boys in Texas, The Pony Rider Boys in Montana, The Pony Rider Boys
in the Ozarks, The Pony Rider Boys in the Alkali, The Pony Rider
Boys in New Mexico, The Pony Rider Boys with the Texas Rangers,
The Pony Rider Boys on the Blue Ridge, etc., etc.

Illustrated

Philadelphia Henry Altemus Company Copyrighted, 1924, by Howard E. Altemus

Printed in the United States of America

Contents

[CHAPTER I—A BITTER DISAPPOINTMENT]
The original wonder of Chillicothe. Tad makes a sacrifice for his mother's sake. Plotters get their heads together. A Pony Rider Boy left behind. A dash to the open country.

[CHAPTER II—CAMPING ON THE PISCATAQUI]
Words of wisdom from the guide. Chunky's proposal is voted down. Tad Butler surprises his fellows. An exhibition of horsemanship. "I never saw anything like that outside of a circus."

[CHAPTER III—A JOYFUL REUNION]
A gentleman in the woodpile. A name with a handle at both ends. Tad voices his regrets. Indian Charlie John joins the outfit. Wild howls startle the Pony Rider camp.

[CHAPTER IV—BAITING THE HONEY BEES]
The Indian's pack lands on Chunky. "I'm killed! I'm killed!" Cale Vaughn shows the boys how to lure the bees. Stacy gets a new idea. Tad learns to walk up a tree.

[CHAPTER V—NEW TRICKS IN WOODCRAFT]
Camp making a science. How to make a browse-bed. How to cache food so animals cannot get it. Why the boy's fire always failed. Making a fire in the rain. The woodsman's trick.

[CHAPTER VI—THE FAT BOY'S REVENGE]
In the heart of the big woods. Coons hold nightly conversations. Stacy loses himself six times in one morning. Oil of anise draws unwelcome visitors. Bees in force attack the Indian.

[CHAPTER VII—STAMPEDED BY AN INTRUDER]
A bear come to camp on the anise trail. Charlie John up a tree. What happened when the bear kissed Chunky. "Fat boy him up a tree." Tad ropes Mr. Bruin; then the fun begins.

[CHAPTER VIII—AN INTERRUPTED FORAGE]
The bear gets a section of Tad's trousers. Boys take to the trees and Bruin takes the camp. Cale shoots to kill. Stacy's practical joke is exposed. "The boss bee was scouting me."

[CHAPTER IX—BEAR STEAK FOR BREAKFAST]
Bruin causes a change of camp. Chunky's heart is weak when there is work to do. Learning to make a "kitchi-plak-wagn" and a "kekauviscoe saster." "Oh help!" wails Chunky.

[CHAPTER X—BLAZING A FOREST TRAIL]
"Every time you turn around the scenery has shifted." Learning to live in the woods. Birch bark lights the way. "Silver Face is calling me." A difficult job done well.

[CHAPTER XI—FACING NEW OBSTACLES]
Camping in the rain in the dark of night. "Don't be scared, boys, I'm going to shoot!" Stacy decides that he has had enough. Tad Butler noses out the way.

[CHAPTER XII—CHUNKY MEETS A BULL MOOSE]
"Indians have sharp eyes." Stacy beholds a terrifying sight. Charged by an angry moose. Too frightened to yell. The bull bumps his head against a tree.

[CHAPTER XIII—AN EXCITING DAY IN CAMP]
The fat boy slays his helpless victim. "I did it with my knife." Chunky's boasts are loud and vigorous. Tad Butler makes a little investigation on his own hook. The guide holds opinions about Stacy's bravery.

[CHAPTER XIV—LAID UP BY AN ACCIDENT]
Broken bones put the guide out of business. First aid to the injured. Chunky lets the cat out of the bag. The timber cruiser hears the story of the fat boy's prowess. "I guess I've got a right to talk about myself if I want to."

[CHAPTER XV—A DISASTROUS JOURNEY]
Bears strip the camp food. Charlie John and Stacy set out for town. "I'd like to see the place where Chunky could not get into trouble." The Indian returns alone. "Chunky is in jail at Matungamook!"

[CHAPTER XVI—BAD NEWS FROM THE FRONT]
Pony Rider Boys go to their chum's assistance. A grilling night journey. Charlie John leads the way. The arrival at the scene of trouble. Twittering birds the harbingers of an eventful day.

[CHAPTER XVII—CHUNKY IN A PREDICAMENT]
A frying pan awakens the Indian. "Game warden git fat boy!" What came of Stacy's bragging. Called before the bar of justice. "Where is the prisoner?"

[CHAPTER XVIII—THE VERDICT OF THE COURT]
"Stacy did not leave much to the imagination, did he?" The same old moose with new trimmings. "Stacy Brown, stand up!" The fat boy brags to the court. The Professor voices his indignation. "One hundred dollars and costs! Pay your fine or go to jail!"

[CHAPTER XIX—PAYING THE FIDDLER]
"Can you cross my palm for $128.50?" Not money enough in the outfit to pay Chunky's fine. Stacy loses his pony. Looks like a week of fasting for the Pony Rider Boys. Dead broke in the Maine woods. The wolf at the door.

[CHAPTER XX—"LOOK WHO'S HERE!"]
Tad and Ned get a job and earn fifty cents. His companions punish the fat boy. Cale Vaughn hears the news and hurried to town. The guide proves himself a friend in need.

[CHAPTER XXI—YOUNG WOODSMEN ON THE TRAIL AGAIN]
"I don't want to be like other folks." Blaze marks lead the boys astray. Tad follows a year-old trail. On the verge of a panic. "We are lost!" declares Butler.

[CHAPTER XXII—LOST IN THE BIG WOODS]
"When you are lost sit down and think it over." Tad and Stacy find themselves in a predicament. "There is nothing like being a cheerful idiot." "Get ready for Trouble!"

[CHAPTER XXIII—AN EXCITING QUEST]
The ponies stampeded. A raging moose wrecks the camp. Chunky up a tree again. Tad shows his resourcefulness. Dishes are made from bark. Dining with nature.

[CHAPTER XXIV—THE SIGNAL SMOKE]
Tad rounds up the live stock. "Chunky would hoodoo the best organized force in the world." Cale Vaughn on the trail of the lost. "Heap big smoke!" Charlie John makes a discovery. The end of the long trail.

[CHAPTER I]

A BITTER DISAPPOINTMENT

"Here's Tad. He'll tell us," cried Walter Perkins. "Oh, Tad, how long a trip is it to the Maine Woods from here?"

"That depends upon whether you walk or ride," answered Tad Butler, walking slowly up to the barn of Banker Perkins where three brown-faced boys were sitting in the doorway, polishing bridles, mending saddles and limbering up their lassos.

"Of course you know what we mean," urged Ned Rector with a grin.

"Yes, I know what you mean."

"He isn't mean. You're the mean one," interjected Stacy Brown, otherwise known among his fellows as Chunky, the Fat Boy.

"Chunky, remember we are at home in Chillicothe now and are supposed to set examples to our less fortunate fellow citizens. Any fellow who can get into the village paper the way you have done ought to hold his head pretty high," chuckled Rector.

Stacy threw out his chest.

"You mean that lion-catching article?"

Ned nodded.

"Yes, that was a pretty swell article. They think I'm the original wonder here in Chillicothe."

"You are. There can be no doubt of that," laughed Tad.

"I'm glad you've come, Tad," continued Ned, turning to young Butler. "We are planning for the new trip to the Maine Woods. I shall be glad to get east. I've never been far east. Any of the rest of you been east?"

"Well, I have been out to Skinner's farm. That's east of the village," declared Stacy Brown.

"Please, please!" begged Ned, a pained expression appearing on his face. "Leave all that sort of nonsense to entertain us after we get into the woods. We don't mind so much your playing the fool when we are away from home, but here it is different. We don't want to be disgraced in this town where we are—"

"Some pumpkins," finished Chunky.

"Well, yes; that's it, I guess," agreed Ned.

"We were waiting for you to talk over what we should take along," declared Walter. "I have been studying and reading and talking with Abe Parkinson, who, you know, used to live up in Maine. He says we must travel very light; that going is hard up there in the woods. He says we don't want an ounce of excess baggage, or we'll never get anywhere. Do you know anything about it, Tad?"

"Yes. I guess Mr Parkinson is right about that. It will be real roughing, perhaps more so than anything you fellows ever have experienced, for you will be a long way from civilization."

"But we'll get plenty to eat, won't we?" begged Stacy, glancing anxiously at Tad.

"You usually do."

"Chunky can browse on green leaves if we get out of food," chuckled Rector.

"Now, I call that real mean," complained the fat boy. "What did I ever do to you to merit such a fling as that?"

"You made a noise like a rattlesnake once and got me dumped into the bushes. Remember that?"

Chunky did. An appreciative grin spread over his round face.

"I haven't got even with you for that, but I shall some day and mine will be a terrible revenge. Br-r-r!"

"Oh, fudge!" scoffed the fat boy. "You talk easily, but no one is afraid of you."

"We aren't here to fight," reproved Walter. "We are here to talk over our journey, and now that Tad has arrived let's get to business, as father would say."

"Especially if you owed him money and couldn't pay it," laughed Stacy.

"Are you all ready, Tad?"

Tad's face grew serious.

"Boys, I'm afraid I can't go with you this time," answered Butler in a low tone.

"Can't go?" exploded the boys.

"No, I think not, this time. Some other time, perhaps."

"Nonsense! Is this some kind of joke?" demanded Rector.

"It's no joke, Ned. I mean it."

"But what—why—"

"I'll tell you, boys."

"Don't tell us. We can't bear to hear disagreeable things," mourned Stacy.

"Go on, Tad, we want to know," urged Walter.

"Well, the whole thing is that Mother isn't well. She hasn't been well all winter. She is not so well now as she was a month ago, and—"

Tad swallowed and moistened his lips with his tongue.

"I couldn't think of leaving her alone, just now; no, not for anything."

"Then you won't go?" questioned Stacy.

Tad shook his head.

"That settles it. Neither will I," decided Chunky.

"Oh, yes you will. You will go on just the same as before, and you will have just as good a time. After you get out into the open again you'll forget that I am not along."

"What! Do you think I would trust my precious person to these savages?" demanded the fat boy with a gesture that took in Ned Rector and Walter Perkins. "Why, I'd never come back!"

"No great loss if you didn't," muttered Rector.

Tad laughed.

"You are old enough to take care of yourself, Chunky. You will have the Professor to protect you in case anything goes wrong."

"No, we can't have it that way," declared Perkins, with a slow shake of the head. "If you don't go, we don't. But really, I don't see why you can't. My folks will look after Mrs. Butler, and—"

Tad shook his head with emphasis.

"My mind is made up," he said.

"Oh, that's too bad," groaned the lads. "That's a burning shame," added Stacy. "I'm hot all over. That's why I know it's a burning shame."

"Leave off joking," commanded Ned savagely. "This isn't anything to laugh about. What appears to be the matter with your mother, Tad?"

"I—I think it's her lungs," replied the boy a bit unsteadily.

"What she needs is mountain air," declared Chunky. "I know. She ought to go to the mountains."

"I agree with you," said Tad. "It is my idea that I can get her to go with me, for part of the summer at least, and then—"

"What's the matter with taking her along with us?" interrupted Rector.

"No, that wouldn't do," answered Tad. "She couldn't stand it."

"Of course she couldn't. That shows how much you know, Ned Rector," scoffed Stacy Brown.

"What do you propose to do all summer, Tad?" asked Ned thoughtfully.

"Oh, I shall work at something. I'm not going to be idle. Perhaps Mr. Perkins will have something to do that will keep me out of mischief for the summer after I get back," answered Butler with a faint smile.

"It's my opinion that this is all foolishness," declared Ned. "I'm going to see your mother."

Tad laid a hand on Ned's arm. "Please say nothing to my mother about it. My mind is made up, and that's all there is to it. Of course, it will be a bitter disappointment to me not to go with you, but I guess I shall get over it. It would be more bitter to me if anything—anything happened to mother."

"And Professor is coming on next week," muttered Walter. "I guess we had better give it up for this season, fellows."

"No. I won't have it that way," urged Tad. "You'll make me feel worse about it if you do anything like that. Your plans are made."

"Yes, we will let things stand as they are for the present," agreed Rector. "But I shan't give up the idea that you are going with us. Why—but what's the use in talking about it? Walt, is your father at home?"

"He is at the bank."

"Then I'm going over to see him."

"What about?" questioned Tad suspiciously.

"I've got a little matter of business that I want to talk over with him."

"Want to borrow some money, eh?" grinned Chunky.

"No, we'll leave that business to you."

"That reminds me, Tad, could you—could you cross my palm for five cents this afternoon?" asked the fat boy solemnly.

"Eh? Do what?"

"Cross my palm for five cents?"

"Say, this is a new habit, isn't it, this borrowing money?"

"Oh, I'll pay you back when I get my allowance," protested Stacy.

"I wasn't thinking about that. Take my word for it, this borrowing business is bad business," rebuked Tad.

"Didn't I always pay you back everything I borrowed of you?" protested Stacy indignantly.

"Yes, yes, but—here's five cents. Will that be enough?"

"Well," reflected the fat boy, "you might make it twenty-five if you are flush today."

Tad passed over a quarter, the other boys regarding the proceeding with disapproving eyes.

"Now that you have made a touch, is it permissible to ask what you are going to do with all that money?" inquired Rector.

"It is."

"Well?"

"They've got a lot of fresh buns over at the bakery. I can get thirty-six of them for a quarter. It's a bargain, too."

"Buns!" growled Ned in a tone of disgust. "Don't you ever think of anything but something to eat?"

"Yes—something that I haven't got to eat."

"Go get your buns and pass them around," suggested Walter smilingly.

"I guess not. There won't be more than enough for me," answered Stacy.

"There's selfishness for you," nodded Ned.

But Ned did Stacy an injustice. The fat boy was simply teasing the others. He intended to bring back the "bargain" and share it with his companions, which he did shortly after that, though Tad was not there to help eat the hot buns that Stacy brought.

Little more was said on the subject nearest to the hearts of the boys, but their disappointment was keen at Tad's decision not to accompany them on their visit to the Maine Woods, for which place they were to start within a few days.

"I can't wait for the buns," said Tad. "I must be getting home, but I will help you boys get ready for the trip and see you off."

"No, you won't see us off," shouted Ned. "You will see yourself off along with the rest of us."

To this young Butler merely shook his head as he turned away, retracing his steps towards home. For a few minutes after Tad's departure, Ned Rector and Walter Perkins sat with heads closed together, talking earnestly. Finally Walter got up and started for his father's place of business at a brisk walk. Later in the afternoon there was a conference between Walter and his parents.

In the meantime, Tad had gone home. He had been insistent that he would not leave his mother, and Mrs. Butler was fully as insistent that he should accompany his companions on their coming journey. But Tad was firm. It was the first time he ever had opposed his mother so stubbornly. Mrs. Butler had been ailing for some time and Tad was greatly worried over her condition. It was this concern for the mother that was on the boy's mind now, rather than his disappointment at not being able to go with his friends. There was only one encouraging factor; his mother, while not well-to-do, was far from being in want. Though she did not feel that she should incur the expense of going away, Tad was determined that she should.

Late in the afternoon Banker Perkins and his wife called at the Butler home and had a long talk with Mrs. Butler. Tad had ridden out of town on his pony to bring in some horses that had been shipped in from the west to be sold. There were some "tough ones" in the bunch of western stock, and none of the town boys could be induced to help corral and drive in the stock for the owner. This work was a recreation for Tad, and the five dollars a day that he received for his services during the sale, in cutting out, roping and riding mustangs for prospective buyers, he considered the easiest money he had ever earned. Besides this, Tad's riding was an exhibition in itself, and it drew scores of spectators. The result was that the five dollars a day paid to Tad was a most excellent investment for the owner.

The coast being clear for the rest of the afternoon, Mr. Perkins and his wife were uninterrupted in their talk with Mrs. Butler. Mrs. Butler, like her son, possessed a mind of her own, and the banker had some difficulty in bringing her around to his point of view, but before the Perkinses left the Butler home Mrs. Butler had agreed to their plans, not so much on her own account as that of the boy of whom she was so justly proud. It was decided between them, however, to leave matters as they were for the present.

"I want to try the boy a little further," added the banker. "Of course, I know him pretty well now, but if he goes through with what he has declared he will, you need never worry about his success in life. A boy who can do that is all right in every way."

The week drew to a close. Tad had completed his work with the horse dealer and collected his money, which he turned over to his mother on Saturday night.

"At this rate I'll be able to retire by and by," smiled the lad.

"You will have more money to spend on your trip this summer," was the reply.

"Yes. My trip with you to the mountains."

"Oh, no, I didn't mean that. You know what I mean, Tad."

"I'm not going, mother. My mind is made up."

"Will it be much of a disappointment to you if you do not go with your friends?"

"Now, you know it won't," replied Tad playfully, as he passed an arm around his mother's waist. "What fun could I possibly have that would compare with going away with you and seeing you grow back into perfect health?"

Mrs. Butler smiled proudly, though she sighed at the thought of the pleasant jaunt that her son offered so readily to give up.

A few days later the other boys decided that they would go on without Tad if they must, though they grumbled a good deal. Tad Butler came forward, taking a hearty interest in all their preparations for this hike in the saddle. He put their kits in shape, made a new lariat for Ned Rector, mended the tents, and in general threw himself as heartily into all the advanced work as though he were going himself. On the day of their departure Professor Zepplin arrived to take charge of the party, as he had been doing for several seasons past.

Three of the boys and the Professor rode to the station, there to car their stock, Tad plodding along on foot, feeling strangely unfamiliar with himself at such a time. Yet, from young Butler's face, one would have thought him the happiest of all the party that gathered at the station, and perhaps down in his heart he was happy, knowing that he was doing what he knew to be his duty to the mother that he loved so well. There was a real shadow, however, on the happiness of his companions—the inability of Tad to go with them on their summer's outing.

Mr. Perkins was at the station to see the boys off. He, with Tad and half a hundred villagers, stood on the platform waving their hats and shouting their good-byes to the departing Pony Rider Boys. As the train pulled out, Stacy Brown was observed hanging over the railing of the rear coach wiping his eyes and pretending to weep, while the spectators laughed at the funny sight.

Mr. Perkins turned inquiringly to Tad.

"Well, Tad, I suppose this isn't a particularly happy occasion for you?" he said.

"Why not sir?"

"Don't you feel the least bit disappointed that you are not on that train yonder?"

"Of course I am disappointed, but I am satisfied that I have done right. That's the best sort of happiness after all. Don't you think so, Mr. Perkins?"

For answer the banker extended an impulsive hand, clasping Tad's in a strong, appreciative grip. Tad walked back with Mr. Perkins, leaving him at the latter's place of business, then the lone Pony Rider Boy strolled meditatively homeward.

Reaching the yard, Tad walked around to the stable, which he entered, and stepping into the stall of his pony, he patted the little animal affectionately.

The pony whinnied appreciatively.

"Well, old boy," said Tad, "you are disappointed just the same as am I. But we'll have a good many nice rides this summer. We'll ride out every night to fetch Deacon Skinner's cows home, and maybe we'll rope one now and then just to keep our hands in. Shall we have a little ride now just to forget, you know? All right, come along then."

The pony backed from its stall as if fully understanding the words of its master. A few moments later Tad was galloping away from town, the little hoofs of his pet mount throwing up a cloud of dust on the broad highway that led to the open country and the fresh green fields.

[CHAPTER II]

CAMPING ON THE PISCATAQUI

A full week had passed since the departure of the Pony Rider Boys from Chillicothe. During that time they had leisurely made their way toward their destination, having gone by way of New York and up Long Island Sound on a boat. Eventually they had reached Bangor, on the Penobscot, whence they proceeded in a northwesterly direction to Dover, a short distance from where they were now encamped on the banks of the Piscataqui river.

At Dover they had been joined by the guide who was to accompany them. The latter was Cale Vaughn, a raw-boned, jolly-faced Yankee, much more talkative than had been most of the guides on their previous wanderings. Cale, it was said, was the best woodsman in the north, a man who simply could not be hopelessly lost in the woods. Professor Zepplin was asking the guide about this same thing as they lounged at their campfire after having eaten their breakfast on this cool but glorious spring morning. The Professor wanted to know if it were possible for a man to be so good a woodsman that he could not be lost.

"If there is such a man I'd like to set eyes on him," answered the guide.

"Have you ever been lost in the big woods?" questioned Stacy, hoping to draw out some of Cale's experiences.

"More times than I've got hairs in my head."

"Then there isn't much hope for us after we reach the forest yonder," declared Ned Rector, nodding toward the faint fringe of deep green that lay to the northwest of them.

"It's easy enough to keep track of yourself if you follow a few simple rules," answered Vaughn.

"And what are they?" asked Walter.

"Water always runs down hill," reminded the guide with a significant smile.

"Eh? Of course it does," scoffed Stacy. "Did anyone ever see it run uphill?"

"I've known folks that thought it did," chuckled the guide.

"Why, I can show you watercourses where you'd be willing to stake your life the water was running in a certain direction, whereas it's going the other way."

"Humph!" grunted Chunky. "They couldn't fool me that way."

"You think so?" laughed Cale.

"I know so," retorted Stacy.

"Well, now suppose we were standing beside a stream, say like the river before us, only in a place where the direction of the current deceived you. I said the water was running that way, the way it does, and you declared it was moving in the other direction, how would you prove whether you were right or wrong?"

Stacy puffed up with importance.

"That's easy."

"Well, answer Mr. Vaughn's question," commanded the Professor.

"Why, I'd throw Ned Rector's hat into the water. If it floated that way, I'd win. If it floated the other way, Mr. Vaughn would win. In either case Ned would lose," answered the fat boy solemnly.

"You win," grinned the guide.

"He wouldn't win if he threw my hat in the water," growled Rector. "Don't let me catch you tossing my hat overboard."

"Oh, I'd see to it that you didn't catch me," jeered the fat boy.

"That's funny. Even Tad would have laughed at that," spoke up Walter.

"I am afraid Tad isn't laughing just now," said Ned.

"No, I'm laughing for him. Ha, ha, ha! Haw, haw!" brayed Stacy.

"You were speaking of getting lost," Professor Zepplin reminded the guide.

"Yes. Another important thing to keep in mind is that the sun rises in the east and sets in the west. By keeping these things in mind you are likely to find your way."

"Provided you know where you are going in the first place," observed Stacy. "I don't. I'm lost before I find myself when I get in the woods."

"We will take a few lessons in woodcraft when we get into the spruce forest," promised Cale.

"By the way, we don't seem to be making much headway in that direction," answered Rector. "We have been loafing here for a whole day. Why the delay?"

"We are waiting for Charlie John," replied the guide.

Charlie John, it may be explained here, was a half-breed Indian whom the party was taking along to do the rough work, to bear the extra burdens, to help cut a path for them when they found themselves in a thicket too dense to permit the passage of the ponies. None of them, except the guide, had seen Charlie, but Cale said the fellow was all right so far as behavior was concerned, though Charlie was not overburdened with brains.

"We've got too much of that here already," replied Ned. "That's what's the trouble with our outfit."

Stacy strolled over to Rector, gravely snipped off the latter's hat and holding it top-up shook the hat vigorously.

"Nothing doing," said the fat boy, replacing the hat on the head of its owner, while Ned's face flushed, and the others laughed.

"I decline to be disturbed by Chunky's antics," howled Ned. "He thinks he's funny, but no one else does. When do you think that lazy half-breed will be along, Mr. Vaughn?"

"He should be here some time today," answered Cale. "If you boys want something to do why don't you go fishing? There's plenty of fish in the river here."

"Let Chunky do the fishing," drawled Ned. "It needs a lazy man to make a good fisherman."

"Oh!" cried Stacy, his face breaking out into a broad smile. "Now I understand. Remember that fine mess of trout that Ned caught when we were in the Rockies? I wish I could fish like that. I'd be willing to be called a lazy one."

"I know what you are going to get, young man," answered Rector, slowly getting to his feet.

"What am I going to get?"

"You're going to get the opportunity to prove whether you are lazy or not, for I'm going to throw you into the river right now."

"You can't do it," retorted Stacy belligerently.

"I'll show you whether I can or not."

The Professor opened his mouth to reprove the two boys, then closed it again, a smile curling his lips, causing the bristling beard to bristle still more fiercely.

With arms about each other, struggling, red of face, perspiring, Ned Rector and Stacy Brown staggered down the sloping bank towards the river, each striving with all his strength to get the upper hand of the other.

Splash!

The two boys disappeared in the water.

"Can they swim?" asked the guide, glancing a bit anxiously at the Professor.

"Like fish," answered Professor Zepplin tersely.

About that time two bobbing heads appeared above the water, only to disappear again, leaving some froth and a sea of bubbles on the surface. When next they appeared they were a long way from shore, but were swimming toward the bank, each with a hand on the other's coat collar, swimming with one hand.

"Look at the twin fish," howled Walter.

The swimmers did not answer him. They were too busy looking after themselves. Ned started to get to his feet as they reached shallow water, but Stacy was ahead of him. The fat boy butted Ned in the stomach, whereupon Stacy very calmly sat down on his companion's head, which was under water.

"Let him up!" cried Walter.

"Get off! He'll drown!" shouted the guide.

"Don't get excited. It will do him a lot of good to drown a few times. I've always observed that drowned persons are extremely well behaved persons."

The guide gripped Stacy by the collar and dragged him from his victim, while Walter was helping Ned up. Ned was purple in the face. He had been under water about as long as was good for him, though not quite long enough to suit the fat boy. A few seconds more, however, and Rector would have thrown Chunky, whereupon it would have been the fat boy's turn to swallow some water.

"I—I slipped," explained Ned between chokes.

"So I observed," replied Stacy solemnly.

"That was very rough and ungentlemanly, Stacy," rebuked the Professor.

"Rough on Ned, yes, sir. You would have thought so if I'd been sitting on your head under water."

"Never mind, Prof—Professor. I'll take—take care of him," coughed Rector.

"You tried to a little while ago. Mr. Vaughn, who won that bout?"

"You win on points," laughed the guide.

"If I had been a fish I'd have won in every other way. I'll tell you what, Ned. You said I was the lazy man and I ought to do the fishing. I'll do it and give you a chance to show how active you are. I will fix up a hook and line, then you jump in the water and swim around the bait just like a trout. You can make a grab for the hook once in a while it you want to. If I catch you by the upper lip I'm a good fisherman. If I don't, you are a good fish. What do you say?"

The others did the saying before Rector had a chance to speak. Chunky's proposition was too much even for the gravity of Professor Zepplin, whose body shook with laughter.

"Think I'm a trout?" growled Ned.

"No, you're a clam."

Ned started for Stacy, really angry now, but he was halted by the stern voice of the Professor.

"Young gentlemen, this thing has gone far enough. You will lose your tempers, then there will be trouble."

"Lose our tempers?" demanded Stacy. "Why, I'm so mad now that I'm speechless. Look out for me. Somebody hold me!"

"We miss Tad Butler. He was the one who held you in check, as I see the matter now," nodded the Professor.

"I wasn't aware, Professor, that Chunky had ever been in check," smiled Walter.

"That's what I say," agreed Ned. "It is high time something were done to curb him. There is no telling what he may not do now that Tad isn't here. I wish he were."

Stacy did not answer for the moment. He was gazing off over the rugged landscape with wondering eyes. Finally he turned, thrusting both hands in his trousers pockets, his chest swelling with importance.

"You win," he said.

"Win what?" demanded Ned sullenly.

"Your wish."

"I haven't made any wish. What did I wish?"

"You wished Tad Butler were here."

"Huh! I wish my wish might come true."

"I told you it had."

"What do you mean, Chunky?" questioned Walter suddenly.

"Why, Tad's here now. You fellows don't use your eyes. You can't any of you see beyond the ends of your noses."

The eyes of Professor Zepplin were twinkling. Cale Vaughn was regarding the lads quizzically. All at once Walter Perkins uttered a wild yell and bounding to his feet started off at a lively sprint. Ned rubbed his eyes, scarcely believing what they saw.

A horseman was galloping toward them at a fast gait. The figure of the horseman was slight, clad in khaki, a broad-brimmed sombrero waving in one hand.

"Whoo-oo-pee!" yelled the horseman, his voice coming to them faintly.

"It is Tad!" howled Ned, then he too started off at a run.

"They are a lively crowd, sir," observed the guide, turning to the Professor.

"You will think so before you get through with this job," answered the Professor grimly. "I have had several seasons of it, and I'm thankful to be able to say that I am still able to be about, though I have been on the verge of nervous prostration more than once."

The horseman, Tad Butler in reality, was now rapidly bearing down on the camp. Walter was far ahead of the pursuing Ned, but Chunky made no attempt to run out to meet his companion. He was still standing with hands in trousers pockets solemnly regarding the scene.

Walter and Tad were nearing each other, when the former stumbled and fell.

Tad raised a hand and Walter, understanding, lifted one hand also, whereupon Tad charged him at a gallop. The horseman swerved at the second when it seemed as if he must run down the kneeling boy, then the palms of the two lads met with a smack, Tad having leaned from the saddle. To the amazement of Cal Vaughn, who was not much of a horseman, the slender form of Walter Perkins seemed to rise right up into the air without effort on his part.

Walt landed astride of the pony just behind the rider, and at touch of spur the little pony straightened out and reached for the camp at a full run, nearly bowling over Ned Rector, who barely got out of the way in time to save himself from being run down.

"Well, what do you think of that?" exclaimed the guide. "I never saw anything like that outside of a circus."

[CHAPTER III]

A JOYFUL REUNION

"Howdy, fellows," greeted Tad laughingly as he leaped from his pony, followed by Walter who, less gracefully, fell off. "Didn't look for me just yet, did you?"

Professor Zepplin had hurried forward; his face was wreathed in smiles as he grasped the hand of the Pony Rider Boy.

"This is Mr. Vaughn, our guide," announced the Professor.

"I am very glad to know you, sir," answered Tad, smiling up into the strong face of Cale Vaughn, winning that gentleman's regard on the instant.

"And, ahem! This is Mr. Stacy Brown, the handy man," announced Chunky, pushing his way to the front and extending a hand to Tad.

"Hello, Chunky. Not growing thin, are you?"

"Be kind enough not to call attention to my superfluities. I am somewhat sensitive, you know."

"I beg your pardon," answered Tad gravely.

Just then Ned Rector came running in, puffing and blowing.

"Is that the way you treat me after I have run a mile more or less to welcome you?" demanded Ned, as Tad gripped him in a bear-like embrace.

"My, you're wet!" laughed Tad, holding Rector off to look at him.

"Yes, he's been in bathing with his clothes on," observed the fat boy solemnly. "Something ought to be done to break him of such slovenly habits. But how do you happen to be here, if I may be so bold as to inquire?"

"Don't you know?" questioned Tad, glancing at the smiling faces around him.

Stacy shook his head.

"Come over and sit down, and I'll tell you about it. By the way, have you folks anything to eat? I'm starving."

"You're not getting Chunky's disease, are you?" sneered Ned, trying to appear greatly displeased, but not making much of a success of the attempt.

"I am afraid I am, boys. Well, Mr. and Mrs. Perkins fixed it up to have Mother go with them to the mountains. You see, Mrs. Perkins is rather delicate and Mr. Perkins wanted her to go to the mountains, where he had taken a cottage for the summer. Of course he couldn't be with her all the time, having to attend to his business at home, so he asked Mother to go along for company. In fact, I guess he insisted. Mother agreed. I think she did so that I might join you boys. I came with them as far as Utica, N.Y. You see, they went to the Adirondacks. I had to come on after they had made those plans. I think Mr. Perkins fixed it up on purpose, so we would all be satisfied. I knew Mother would be in good hands and I knew she would feel better about it if I came on and joined you."

"But how did you find us?" urged Rector.

"Why, they told me, at the village, that you were camping out here. They gave me directions so I couldn't miss you."

"Hm-m-m!" mused the fat boy, screwing up his features and regarding Tad narrowly. "How did you know we were in this part of the country?"

"Everybody in New England knows that," laughed Tad.

"Yes, they know Chunky is here," agreed Ned.

"It strikes me that there is a gentleman of color in the woodpile," observed Stacy. "In fact, I might say there are several of them hidden in the stove wood."

"Yes, I reckon you're right. And you didn't know a thing about it?" chuckled Butler.

Stacy shook his head.

"But we may have had our suspicions—our suspicions, you understand?" said the fat boy. "Still, there are several things that need explanation."

"Professor, you knew about this all the time, didn't you?" demanded Ned.

The Professor stroked his beard.

"I see no harm in saying that I did."

"He was in the conspiracy, boys, but I didn't know a thing about it until the day before I left Chillicothe," said Tad.

"Then Professor Zepplin knew about it before we left home, eh?" questioned Stacy.

"I guess he did," admitted Walter.

Stacy fixed a stern gaze on the smiling Walter Perkins.

"You in this thing, too, Walt?" he demanded.

"I plead guilty," answered Perkins, flushing violently.

"Well, I call it a shame to deceive innocent boys like that. But, sir," added Chunky, turning pompously to Tad Butler, "I welcome you in the name of the Pony Rider Boys. We will now kill the fatted calf."

"In other words, Stacy Brown," interjected Rector. "It's a good thing you are here, Tad. There is no holding Chunky. Why, you have no idea how he is acting. Am I right, Professor?"

"I will admit that Stacy is at times inclined to be rude," nodded Professor Zepplin.

"Everyone is against me," growled Stacy. "Everything I do is the wrong thing and nothing that I do is right. You fellows don't stop to think what tame affairs these trips would be without somebody to poke fun at. I am the mark for everyone. The trouble with me is that I am not valued at my true worth. Mr. Vaughn, have you learned to know me well enough to realize how valuable I am to this company?"