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Updated: May 9, 2025
Still he saw no other way than for them to haul the pack up by main strength. He told his companions to get ready for real work. The pack was heavier than Tad. "I I can't do another thing," wailed Chunky. "Why can't you?" demanded the Professor. "My heart won't stand it." "Oh, pooh!" scoffed Professor Zepplin. "Did you ever have a thorough physical examination, Chunky?" questioned Ned.
"Look!" he shouted in Dick's ear. "We didn't start a moment too soon. See her that great big cigar-shaped thing, dropping over there?" It was the Zepplin the battleship of the air. She was dipping down, descending gracefully, over Bray Park. "I was right!" cried Harry. "Now we can go to work at once we won't have to land and wait!" He rose still higher, then flew straight for Bray Park.
He knows when it's time to laugh. Ha, ha!" Professor Zepplin was smiling broadly. Stacy's joke was just dawning upon the professor. But Tad's mind at that juncture was in another direction. The lad had raised his head in a listening attitude, his glance fixed keenly on the other side of the camp ground. "Did you see something?" whispered Walter. Tad shook his head. "You heard something?"
Professor Zepplin was leading the way, dragging one mule after him at the end of a rope. Then came Ned with the second pack mule, followed by Tad and the other two boys. Butler wanted to follow behind the mules so as to keep watch of them, he not feeling any too great confidence in the worn-out old animals.
Gun ready for instant use, Professor Zepplin dashed around the corner of the rock, running plump into the arms of the fellow whom he had been so successfully dodging for the past twenty minutes. So startled was the scientist that he dropped his revolver, throwing both arms about his antagonist.
A few moments more, and he, too, had been hauled safely to the top, amid the wild cheers of his companions and the congratulations of the guide and Professor Zepplin. After having been well rubbed down by the guide, and given a steaming cup of tea, Walter was put to bed, protesting stubbornly that he was all right and that their attentions were unnecessary. But Lige Thomas was firm.
None of the lads seemed to be any the worse for his exciting experiences in the creek, much to the relief of Professor Zepplin, who feared the icy bath might at least bring on heavy colds. Tumbling from their cots, they quickly washed; and then sprinting back and forth a few times, stirred up their circulation, after which the boys sat down to the morning meal with keen appetites.
"Do you mean to say you have been gone nearly twenty-four hours and have not found a rope?" demanded Professor Zepplin. "No rope," persisted the guide sullenly. "Why not?" demanded Ned, steadying himself, for he was more wrought up than he wished to admit, even to himself. The Shawnee shrugged his shoulders.
Tad mounted his own horse and galloped along at the base of the rocks, well shielded from any one who might be hiding further back in the mountains. The Pony Rider Boy's mind was working rapidly. He was forming a plan of campaign. He was inclined to agree with the theory of Professor Zepplin. Still, theories would not help them at this critical moment.
He had finished his job quickly, rather to the surprise of the boys, who were chuckling over the mess Professor Zepplin would make of it. The professor, however, was far from helpless. He might not be suspicious of every one he met, but he was a man of brains. He knew how to get along with his young charges, as perhaps few men would have done.
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