Part 19 (1/2)

”It's Chunky. He's giving the alarm! We're attacked!” cried the lads.

Bang! Bang!

They saw the flash of the fat boy's weapon before the report reached their ears.

A moment later the other boys caught sight of Stacy das.h.i.+ng into camp, hatless, waving his rifle and yelling as if bereft of his senses.

”What is it? What is it?” cried the boys with one voice.

”Indians! Indians! The prairie's full of them!”

CHAPTER X

MEETING THE ATTACK

Instantly the camp was thrown into confusion. The lads ran here and there, not knowing what to do.

”Get behind the ponies! That's the only cover we can find here. Run for it!”

And run they did, the Professor outdistancing all the rest in his attempt to secrete himself where the enemy's weapons would not be likely to reach him.

In a moment more, the camp of the Pony Rider Boys was deserted, and behind each sleeping pony lay a boy, with rifle barrel poked over the animal's back, ready to shoot at the first sign of the redskins.

Stacy, in his excitement, had forgotten that not a cartridge was left in his magazine, and the others were too fully occupied to remember to tell him.

For all of half an hour did the party lie protected. The boys began to grow restive. Tad's suspicions were being slowly aroused.

”I'm going to do a little scouting,” he told them, slipping from behind the pony and skulking along back of the tents. The moon was s.h.i.+ning brightly now. He could see a long distance. Not a human being was in sight.

”I thought so,” he muttered, retracing his steps. ”See here, Stacy Brown, what did you see--what did you shoot at?” he demanded sternly.

”I--I shot the chute--I--I mean I chuted the shot--I mean--”

”Say, what do you mean?”

”I--I mean--say, leggo my neck, will you?” roared Chunky.

”Fellows, he doesn't know what he means.”

”Guess he's been feeding on crazy gra.s.s out on the prairie,” was Ned's conclusion.

”There isn't an Indian anywhere around here. I know it. They would have been after us long before this, if there had been.”

One by one the boys came from their hiding places, the lazy Mexican last. Disapproving eyes were turned on Stacy.

”Chunky, you come along and show us where you were when you shot--did you shoot at an Indian?” asked Tad.

”Yes, and I--I--I shot him.”