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Updated: June 9, 2025
Throwing them off with a prodigious effort he scrambled to his feet, dust-covered, hatless and with hair in a sad state of disorder. Professor Zepplin had thrust the other boys aside and was gripping Tad's hands. "It's the last time you ever get me to consent to your taking such a chance," he said. "How did you get out? You certainly did not climb up the side of the mountain."
I suppose he pumped you gentlemen pretty thoroughly?" "I guess he learned all he wanted to know," replied Tad, flushing. "I don't recall much of anything that he missed." Professor Zepplin wiped the perspiration from his forehead. "This is most disturbing, sir. I see now that Tad was right. He counseled caution. I gave no heed to his words of warning."
The call was in the stentorian voice of Professor Zepplin, to which Ned Rector added a shout of his own. Fearing that some ill had befallen Tad and Stacy, the others had started out after them. Following them came Walter and the lazy Mexican. "We're down here! Look out for the Indians!" warned Tad in a loud voice. "You're crazy!" jeered Ned. "Come out of that. What ails you fellows?
"No, but I've got an idea." "Out with it! You won't rest easy until you do. What's your idea?" "I was thinking, if I had a camera, I could make a motion picture of that cheese. I heard of a fellow once " "That will do, Master Stacy," warned Professor Zepplin. "Can't I talk?" "Along proper lines yes." "Cheese is proper, isn't it?" "Depends upon how old it is," chuckled Tad.
Luke shook his head. "Bad. Can he shoot?" "Oh, yes. But he had only a revolver a heavy thirty-eight calibre that belongs to Professor Zepplin." "Nice toy to hunt bears with," laughed the foreman. "Bear's probably cleaned him up. I'll get a man I know and I'll go back with you myself.
It was then seen that a bullet had grazed Stacy's cheek, leaving a raw streak across it. Professor Zepplin, now mindful of his duty, had hurried up to them, and down on his knees was examining the wound critically. "Hm -m -m!" he muttered. "Bad business, bad business!" "But -what does it mean?" urged Walter. "What does it mean? It means that the Germans have got us," wailed Stacy Drown.
Ned Rector shied a tin can at him, whereat the fat boy ducked in out of sight. "But surely whoever was here must have left some trace," protested Professor Zepplin. "Perhaps you may be able to find it. I can't," answered Tad. "We'll all look," cried Ned. Tad nodded, and while they were scanning the ground he walked about the outskirts of the camp with his glances on the ground.
Professor Zepplin explained how the prisoner had tricked him, declaring his belief in Tad Butler's statement that the prisoner was a bad man. The professor no longer urged the release of their prisoner. Tad smiled mirthlessly. Perhaps it was better that the professor should have had an object lesson. He would take no further chances with the fellow after that.
Professor Zepplin shook his head. "Too risky!" "It certainly is risky to stay here. Listen, sir. If that man wants to get us he surely will be creeping down on our position before long. We are in greater peril here, where we can't see anything on one side of us, than we would be out there where we have an unobstructed view on all sides.
Both were apparently sleeping soundly, while in an adjoining tent Ned Rector and Stacy Brown were breathing regularly, sleeping the sleep that naturally comes after a day in the saddle over the rugged, uneven slopes of the Ozark Mountains. Professor Zepplin uttered something that sounded not unlike an Indian's grunt of disgust. "Dreams!" he decided sharply.
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