his clothes, stepped outside. He stood listening in front of his tent
for several minutes, but heard nothing of a disturbing nature.

"I believe those young rascals are up to some of their pranks--either
that, or I have been having bad dreams. While I'm up I might as well
make sure," he decided, tip-toeing to the tent occupied by Tad Butler
and Walter Perkins.

Both were apparently sleeping soundly, while in an adjoining tent Ned
Rector and Stacy Brown were breathing regularly, sleeping the sleep
that naturally comes after a day in the saddle over the rugged, uneven
slopes of the Ozark Mountains.

Professor Zepplin uttered something that sounded not unlike an
Indian's grunt of disgust.

"Dreams!" he decided sharply. "I should not have eaten that pie last
night. Pie doesn't seem to trouble those boys in the least, but it
certainly has a bad effect on my digestive apparatus."

Having thus delivered himself of his opinion on the value of pie as a
bedtime food, the scientist trotted back to his tent, his teeth
chattering and shoulders shrugging, for the mountain air was chill and
the Professor was clad only in his pajamas.

No sooner had he settled himself between his comforting blankets,
however, than he suddenly started up again with a muttered
exclamation.

"I knew it! I told you so!"