The Pony Rider Boys with the Texas Rangers | Page 9

You will strike the
stream farther back, then follow it, but be very careful. Be an Indian,
Ned. If you are a white man you're likely to lose your identity. We don't
want to stop any bullets. Chunky has done quite enough of that for one
day."
"I'll watch out---never you fear, old man."
"Then here we go."
Tad crept silently away, hugging the base of the rocks so that it would
have been difficult for one at the top to have seen him at all Ned,
obeying his instructions, found a canyon up which he crawled, neither
boy making a sound. They had agreed upon the two-shot signal to call
each other, three shots being a warning to the rest of their party that
they were in need of assistance.

Neither lad saw or heard anything of a disturbing nature on his way out.
Ned found no difficulty in making his way into the range of mountains,
but as he proceeded and found no one there he grew more bold. Not
that he was particularly careless, but he unconsciously relaxed a little of
his former caution.
In the meantime Tad Butler had crept on past the place where the party
had first planned to go into camp. Not a sign of a human being greeted
Tad's watchful eyes. The lad climbed the side of the rocks, keeping his
body hidden in the foliage as much as possible. He had got about half
way up when he paused to take a look over the plain beneath him. The
Pony Rider Boy could faintly make out the place where his companions
were in camp awaiting the result of his mission.
"I believe there's Chunky standing on that rise," muttered Tad. "Yes it
must be Chunky. I'll bet the professor doesn't know the boy is out there.
Chunky evidently is getting anxious about us."
Bang!
The shot sounded some distance to the eastward of where Tad was
secreted. Instinctively the lad glanced toward the camp again. Stacy
Brown no longer was to be seen. Tad Butler could not repress a laugh.
He had a pretty clear idea as to what had caused Chunky's sudden
disappearance. It did not occur to him that possibly Stacy had been bit.
As a matter of fact the unknown marksman's bullet had grazed the head
of the fat boy, instilling in that young gentleman a more thorough
respect for the mountaineer's marksmanship.
But now Tad's mind turned to the object of his visit to the mountain
range. He was there looking for the man who had fired the shot. Ned
Rector had heard the shot also. Both boys were making their way
toward the spot whence the shot had seemed to come. Ned had located
the sound much nearer than had Tad. The latter struck off in a
southeasterly direction which carried him still farther into the hills. He
had reasoned that the shooter was occupying a high point of vantage
somewhere farther in, whence he was taking pot shots at the camp of
the Pony Rider Boys. In this Tad was mistaken. The mountaineer was

much nearer the plains than Tad thought.
Ned started on a trot immediately after having heard the shot.
"I've got him this time!" exulted Rector. "I've got a chance to show the
fellows what sort of a trailer I am. They don't think I'm any good,
except Tad, and he knows better."
Tad, as he skulked along, was wondering if Ned had heard the shot and
hoping that his companion would make no false moves. Each boy was
determined to round up the man who had winged Stacy Brown and
narrowly missed killing the others of the party.
Night was coming on rapidly and it behooved the lads to make haste. In
the first place they did not know these hills, and, in the second, the
professor would become alarmed and come in search of them were
their return delayed too long. This was not desirable. It might mean the
undoing of the entire party unless Tad and Ned succeeded in rounding
up their enemy first.
Ned, in his excitement, had a mishap. While creeping along the upper
rim of a galley he stepped on a round stone. Ned fell crashing into a
heap of rotting limbs and went floundering from there to the bottom of
the incline, making a racket that must have been heard clear out on the
plain.
The lad got up, his clothing torn, his face scratched, very much
chagrined over his blundering fall.
"I guess I'm not so much of a scout as I thought I was," he muttered.
"Chunky could have done no worse and for a blundering idiot he's
always held the cup up to the present time. I'm glad no one saw me
make such