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Updated: June 2, 2025
"Why doesn't he say something?" cried the Professor, unable to restrain his impatience longer, bis overwrought nerves almost at the breaking point. "Keep still! Don't bother him. The boy's doing the best he can. Mebby you think he's having some sort of a picnic down there, eh?" glared Lige. "A l l right!" Tad's voice, now strong and clear, rose from the depths of the canyou.
Occasionally a redskin would pass them, but no one gave either the slightest heed. "Here he is," whispered Tad." "Lead him off. Don't mount just yet." Tad did as the agent had suggested. But all at once something happened. Tad's blanket had dropped from his shoulders, revealing him in his true colors. An Indian uttered a yell. Tad sprang into his saddle and put spurs to the pony.
It is Kris Kringle; I'm living out here for my health and doing a little ranching on the side." Stacy looked his amazement. "Is is he Santa Claus?" he whispered, tugging at Tad's coat sleeve. "No, young man. I am not related to the gentleman you refer to," grinned Mr. Kringle. There was a general laugh at Stacy's expense.
Tad's face took on the stubborn look it always wore when he had determined upon a certain course of action. "I'll beat them yet, even if there are only two of them. I wish there weren't two of us on this nag." "I'll get off and walk," suggested. Stacy. "You'll do nothing of the sort. That would be a nice thing to do, wouldn't it? They'd round you up quicker'n they could a lame burro." "Say, Tad."
Then they let go their voices, to which the professor added his own. But his voice was almost wholly lost in the blood-curdling shouts of his young charges. "Ready -Chunky, aim at the moon or you'll be puncturing some of us. Now fire!" A volley of shots followed Tad's command.
"Better break it than have it shot off," mumbled Stacy. "Who can it be?" "I can't say, Professor." "It's our friends from the fire dance," was Tad's expressed conviction. "Told you they'd be here," nodded Chunky. "Why don't you shoot at them?" "Going to, in a minute. Got to find out where they are first." Now the lads were excited in earnest.
Hildreth had been rather gloomy at breakfast that morning, and I thought she would join in a laugh with me over Tad's horse-play. There is a streak in me that makes me enjoy the grotesque slap-stick of the comic artists. When Hildreth saw the cartoons, she laughed a little, at first; then she wept violently.
All his faculties were instantly on the alert. But he realized now that his only hope lay in attracting the attention of the others of his party, who could be only a short distance away, for he could still hear their shouts. "Help!" Tad's shrill voice punctuated a momentary lull in the storm.
Lige brought his brawny hand down with a resounding whack, squarely between Tad's shoulders, which operation he repeated several times with increasing force. "On ouch!" yelled Tad, suddenly finding his voice under the guide's heroic treatment. "Wh where am I?" "You're in the woods.
McCormick, Tad and Chunky followed the young mining engineer to his one-roomed cabin where the host had prepared an appetizing meal. It was Tad's second meal in the place. This time, however, he found himself too much disturbed to eat heartily. His appetite seemed to leave him all at once. "As I was saying just after you arrived," began Mr. Phipps "Hark! What was that?"
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