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Updated: May 12, 2025
But that wasn't a nice thing to do. It's all right to play tricks, but I hope you won't be so cruel as to use a spur on a dumb animal, the way you did, even if he is an ill-tempered broncho. You might have broken Chunky's neck, too." Ned's face flushed. "It was a mean trick, I'll admit. Didn't strike me so at the time. Shall I ask Chunky's pardon?" "Do as you think best.
T-i-g-e-r!" roared the boys, grabbing Chunky and tossing him back and forth, making of him a veritable medicine ball. "What's the matter with Chunky?" cried Walter. "Chunky's all right," chorused the band. "Who's no tenderfoot?" "Chunky's Brown's no tenderfoot." Puffing out his cheeks, and squaring his shoulders, Stacy swaggered over to the dead bob-cat, violently pulling its ear.
That's what I should like to know and it's a question that the Pony Riders will have a hard time in answering. Now, it is different with Chunky. Chunky's uncle has money. He can well afford to buy his nephew a pony. When I went to ask him to-day he said he would see about it. That means Chunky will have one." "Why do you think that?"
No further objection was heard from the Professor as to Chunky's vocal exercises. "There's no use trying to sleep with that boy bawling away out there. What does he think he is, a bird?" demanded Tad. "Sounds more like a hoot owl, the bird he was telling us about," averred Ned. "I guess I'll get up. So long as he is abroad there will be no more rest in this camp for the rest of the night."
Chunky's clever foresight probably saved Tad Butler's life, for, instantly the pony found itself free, it began bucking and kicking in a circle, kicking a ring all round the compass before it finally decided to settle down on all fours.
There was quite an imposing collection, with their ponies, their burros, tents and other equipment, the latter lying strewn all over the open level space beyond the station. "Looks as if a circus had just come to town," laughed Walter. "We've got a side show, anyway," retorted Ned. "What's our side show?" "Chunky's that." "No; he's the clown.
Whoop it up, fellows!" Tad raised his voice to an exultant shout. Chunky's piercing voice punctured the atmosphere in a blood-curdling shout, a wild warwhoop. "Yip! Yip! Hiyi! Hiyi! Kyaw! Kyeeaw! Yip! Yip!" Despite the seriousness of the situation and the real desperateness of their position the Pony Rider Boys laughed so that they were unable to yell for a full minute.
But Chunky's reply was not clear to them, for the greater part of his face was buried in a flank of jack-rabbit, and he was able to talk with his eyes alone, which at that moment were large and expressive.
While it had not punctured the skin, the spur had raked the coat, showing that the rowel had been applied with considerable force. Tad, with a covert glance about, saw Ned Rector watching him. "You're the guilty one, eh?" he demanded, walking up to Ned. "S-h-h-h," cautioned Ned. "He'll be redheaded if he knows I am to blame for his coming a cropper." "Chunky's not so slow as you might think.
"Why, Chunky's found a " "Pussy, pussy, pussy! Nice pussy. Come here, pussy. That's a good kittie. Puss, puss, puss," continued the soothing voice of the boy.
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