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Updated: May 29, 2025
Now, maybe you wish I hadn't." "Not a bit of it, Chunky," declared Jerry heartily. "You're all right!" "It was very thoughtful to provide for us," said Rose. There was fresh water in a cooler, and the young people made a merry meal. They ate everything to the last crumbs, and, as Bob said, they could probably have gotten away with more, for the salt air gave them good appetites.
Not a man of the Rangers had been hit, nor was it believed that any of the enemy had been wounded. Night shooting at skulking figures in a forest is uncertain work. Tad realized a sense of thankfulness for this. He was not anxious to see bloodshed, but now that the danger was over, Chunky grew very brave. He told them all about it and how "We" had driven the bandits off.
Tad wonderingly led the way over to their captive, the lieutenant following in quick, nervous strides, the others of the party bringing up the rear, Chunky lugging a rifle which he kept in position for instant use in case the stranger should seek to liberate their prisoner. But there was little danger of Lieutenant Joe Withem doing anything of the sort,
"Something's going to happen in about a minute," announced Chunky, with an air of great wisdom. He had been watching the preparations with hands thrust deeply into his pockets. "What's going to happen?" demanded Ned, turning on him sharply. Chunky, instead of replying, leaned back against the rocks and began to whistle. In a moment the disaster that he had foreseen was upon them.
I can't help believing that those fellows were plotting to do some one a great injury." "So do I," agreed Chunky. "I guess we had better not say anything about it to the others, but we'll try to find out who this man Lasar is, and who Mr. Marquand is. Then we'll decide what to do next."
"And didn't I ride a broncho that never had had a saddle on his back but once in his life? Say, did I get thrown then?" "He did that," endorsed Stacy Brown, who, because of his well-rounded cheeks and ample girth, was known familiarly among his companions as "Chunky." "I mean, he didn't. And he rode the pony three times around the baseball field, too.
"Oh, give him the sugar. I have to take my coffee half milk," begged Walter. "All right, hand over the condensed milk then. I'll give you two lumps," said Ned. "Three," replied Chunky, firmly, making no move to hand over the milk. Ned let the lumps drop into his companion's cup, but from such a height that Chunky had to dodge as the coffee flew up.
"It it was a Latin dictionary I wanted," said the freshman, "and the girls next door said perhaps you had one." "A beautiful one," said Patty. "No," interrupted Priscilla; "hers is lost from O to R, and it's all torn; but mine," she dived down into one of the boxes and hauled out a chunky volume without any covers, "while it is not so beautiful as it was once, it is still as useful."
But he takes the money," added Mr. Simms significantly. "By the way, where's your chum?" "Whom do you mean?" asked Walter, glancing about the table. "Chunky, I believe you call him." "That's so, where is he?" demanded Tad, laying down his fork. "Probably fallen in somewhere again," growled Ned. "Did not Master Stacy come in with you, Ned?" asked the Professor hurriedly. "No, sir."
But the Professor was lost in his enjoyment of the biscuit, which he had liberally smeared with the delicious jam. Chunky did even better than that. He buried his biscuit under a layer of jam, over which he spread a thick coating of honey. Ned fixed him with a stern eye. "Remember, sir, that a certain amount of dignity befits the office of president of the Pony Riders Club, "he said.
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