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Updated: May 29, 2025
"Then you light a match when we get inside. I'll have my revolver ready in case there is anything in there." Taking a final glance about, Tad moved toward the opening in the rocks with brisk step. Chunky was trotting along behind him, the fat boy full of importance over the discovery they had made. At the opening they paused, glancing apprehensively at the great roots towering above them.
And, as though we were still in the pastoral times of peace, in the square of one of these villages a horse-fair was in progress, blue-smocked peasants were trotting chunky ponies over the stones. It was like a picture from one of De Maupassant's tales. In other villages the shawled women sat knitting behind piles of beets and cabbages and apples, their farm-carts atilt in the sun.
No one was able to answer him. Soon two more shots followed, and Chunky; was sure that he heard a bullet sing by his head. Professor Zepplin laughed, saying it was no doubt some one hunting, and that what the boy had imagined was a bullet was merely an echo. "You no doubt will hear many shots while you are in the mountains.
The fat boy landed on the plain in a heap. "Are you hurt, Chunky?" cried Tad anxiously, slipping from his saddle and running to his companion. "I I dunno, I I fell off, didn't I?" "You're off, at least," grinned Ned. "What was the matter?" "I I dunno; do you?" "How should I know? If you will go to sleep an a bucking broncho, you must expect things to happen."
Just at this time Professor Zepplin happened to cast his eyes over toward Stacy and, seeing that something unusual was going on, went quickly but silently over to the boy. "What's the trouble? Anything the matter?" called the Professor. "There will be if you don't tie Chunky to a tree or something," called Tad.
This is Professor Zepplin. The young man with whom you came in is Stacy Brown, otherwise Chunky, and here are Mr. Rector and Mr. Perkins. If you will gather around the fire I'll serve the chuck." "Thanks, young man. You certainly know how to do the honors, as well as how to fry bacon. I could smell that across a county and I'd ride to it as fast as horseflesh could carry me."
Something else besides saying you're going to will be necessary." "What would you suggest!" "One of us must go down there," was the guide's startling announcement. "That's the only way we can reach him," explained Lige, dangling the loop of the lariat in his hands as he looked from one to the other. "D do down in that dark place? Oh!" exclaimed Chunky.
Why, school will not last much longer. It is May, now, and school will be over early in June. That isn't long to wait. You go right home, Chunky, and tell your uncle you must have a pony. Tell him I said so. If he refuses, I'll have my father go ask him. He won't refuse my father anything he asks.
He might get lonesome if we were to leave him alone," chuckled Tad. "Get back as soon as you can. I'll have a fire built, then we'll get supper. Did you know this fellow took another shot at Chunky?" "No. Was that what he shot at?" "That was it." "I hope he didn't hit him." "I guess not." "Chunky seems to be getting more than his share of lead to-day," answered Rector with a chuckle.
It was this delicate physical condition that had brought about the gift of the pony. The family physician had advised it in order that the boy might have more out-door air, and on this May morning Walter had brought the pony out to show to his admiring friends. "Tad's a good rider. Isn't he a beauty?" breathed Chunky, as they watched the progress of boy and horse down the street.
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