place a guard over the camp, keeping a sharp watch all through the
night. By morning we'll be able to find out what is in the wind."

"I won't move a step," declared Stacy stubbornly.

"You will do whatever seems best to the rest of us," answered the
professor sternly. Then, after a moment's thought, he added, "I am
inclined, upon second thought, to agree with Tad. We will try the plan."

"Good. Follow me. Get that pony, Chunky. I told you once before to
catch him. We'll be in a fine mess if you lose your mount."

"I'd rather lose my mount than to lose my precious life," answered the
fat boy surlily.

By this time the others were taking to their saddles. The faces of all
wore serious expressions. They had not looked for anything quite so
lively as this. It was not the first time the Pony Rider Boys had
smelled powder when the powder was being expended on them, but they
liked it none the better for past experiences.

Stacy's cheek was bleeding again. He was holding his handkerchief to
the wound and his face was a little paler than usual.

"Buck up!" commanded Ned. "You're not going to show the white feather,
are you?"

"No, it's a red feather I'm showing," wailed the fat boy.

"Forward!" ordered Butler. "Get up, Chunky!"