They changed their minds before they had been out of camp an hour.
Tad rode well up with the leader, sitting in his saddle like a
veteran, taking obstructions in their path with jumps that some of the
party balked at and rode around.

"Say, kid, where'd you learn to hit a saddle like that?" called one.

"Does my riding please you?" inquired Tad.

"I should say it did. You are no tenderfoot."

Though the party rode rapidly, the hour was late when they reached the
vicinity of the Pony Rider Boys camp. Having approached the place
from another direction, Tad did not know where he was.

"It must be somewhere hereabouts," decided the leader. "Can't you
remember whether it was to the north or the south of this?"

"Which way is the gorge?" asked Tad.

"That way. Lays right the other side of those rocks."

Tad considered for a moment.

"Wait," he said, a sudden idea coming to him. "I do not remember this
particular spot, but when I left the camp I blazed trees all along so
I could find my way back. If there are any marks on the trees here, I
made them."

The men leaped from their ponies and began examining the trees, from