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Updated: June 2, 2025
If I'm any judge, you and I are not going to have a very easy time of it on the back track, either, Jimmie." Without a compass, with only a hazy idea of the direction in which they had been traveling, Tad's task indeed was a difficult one.
"You can boost me up to the hole and I'll go over the rear of the house, get to the camp and from there ride to Hondo." Tad's three companions started a cheer, which the guide sternly put down. "I can't consent to any such plan," decided the Professor sternly. The rest reasoned with him until, finally, he did consent, though he knew the lad would be taking desperate chances.
Tad's clothes were torn, and his limbs were black and blue all the way down where the hoofs of the broncho had raked them again and again. "My arms feel a foot longer than they did. What are you looking at?" Stacy's eyes grew large and luminous as he gazed off over the plains. "Look! Look, Tad!" he whispered. "Fire!
With a warning cry to the others to bring lights, Tad, without an instant's hesitation, leaped over the bluff and went shooting down it in a sitting posture. "Tad's gone in, too," shouted Walter excitedly, as their ears caught a second splash. It was more clean cut than had been Stacy's dive, and might have passed unnoticed had they not known the meaning of the sound.
Yet this, he told himself, should not deter him from making the move the moment he found the right sort of a boy to go in with him. During the past week there had been frequent conferences between Mrs. Butler and Banker Perkins, and on several occasions Tad's mother had called at the hank in person. Of all this the young man knew nothing.
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 shining brightly now. He could see a long distance. Not a human being was in sight. "I thought so," he muttered, retracing his steps.
His head felt dizzy and his fists did not work with the same speed that they had done before. All at once Tad's right hand shot out, his fist open instead of being closed. It closed over the left wrist of the cowboy with an audible slap. Tad's left hand joined his right in closing over his adversary's wrist. He whirled sharply, bringing Bob's left arm over his adversary's shoulder.
The guide took the piece of ore, examining it carefully. "That isn't gold," he laughed. "That is what is known as 'fools' gold." "Scientifically known as 'iron pyrites'" explained the Professor. Tad's jaw fell at this shattering of his hopes. Yet, when Lige tossed the piece of mineral on the ground, the boy picked it up and dropped it back in his pocket. Why he did this he did not know.
He sat on the floor with her three boys, watching the patient efforts of George to harness his perturbed white rat to Tad's small fire engine. George was a lank sprawling lad of fourteen, all legs and arms and elbows, with rumpled hair and freckled face, a quick bright smile and nice brown eyes frank, simple, understandable eyes.
Tad's manner was so funny and so like a kindly old gentleman, that the girls had to laugh. But though Grace looked willing to obey the order, Maisie did not. "Don't be silly, Tad," she said; "I guess you don't know what Grace said about me, or you wouldn't ask me to kiss her!" "Tell me," said Tad, with the air of an impartial judge, "and I and my wise colleague, Mr.
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