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Updated: May 12, 2025
"Chunky's uncle is going to get him a pony?" asked Tad a bit unsteadily. "We hope so," nodded Walter. "And that's not all. We are going to get Ned Rector to join the club. He already has a pony. Wish you might come in with us, Tad." "Wish I might," answered Tad wistfully. "Of course, we know you can't really, but you belong to us just the same. You can be a sort of of honorary member.
He was headed directly for the place where Tad lay flattened on the ground, though the lad felt sure his enemy did not see him. But when the Indian suddenly sprang up into the air to avoid stepping on the object that lay there, Tad knew that further secrecy was useless. The redskin had jumped right over him, dropping Chunky's rifle as he leaped.
"An artesian well, my boy, is nothing more than a hole in the ground," the guide informed him, much to Chunky's chagrin. The spot where the divining rod had so suddenly gotten busy was about midway of an old water course, covered with a thick growth of bunch grass. "Get some tools, boys," directed the Professor.
The suddenness of the movement caused Chunky's feet to rise straight up into the air. For a few brief seconds he was standing on his head on the pony's neck like a circus performer. Then, as the animal lowered its head, the rider toppled over, still clinging to the neck of his mount. Such a chorus of laughter and shouting the Jessup ranch had never known before. "How is it, Mr.
"This is the loop all right, but not the Guadalupe," laughed Rector. "Hullo, Chunky's in the Land of Nod." "Wake him up, Ned," nodded Tad. "Not much. Let him wake himself up." "His pony has gone to sleep, too," added Walter. "Yes, they are a couple of sleepy heads, Tad." As the lads turned to gaze at the fat boy, they could not repress a shout of laughter.
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