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Updated: May 9, 2025
Professor Zepplin scooped up a handful of the coins and examined them under the lantern. "Old Spanish coins," he informed them. "Pure gold. And look at these nuggets! Where do you suppose the Indians found them?" "There are hidden mines in the State," informed Mr. Marquand. "Some of these days they will be discovered. I have been hunting for them myself, but without success.
Have you any title to this property?" "Yes. I have bought up a hundred acres about here. The deeds are in my pocket. I guess nobody has a better title.". "His title is all right," spoke up Professor Zepplin. "I made sure of that before I decided to come with Mr. Marquand." "Then there's only one thing to be done." "What's that?" "Get a sheriff's posse and bag the whole bunch." Mr.
Fortunately, Professor Zepplin was not injured. He explained that he had had too many similar disasters while an officer in the German army, and that he did not mind a slight mishap like that at all. He declared that it reminded him so much of his younger days that he really enjoyed the sensation of falling off.
Early in the morning the three boys and Professor Zepplin had followed Tad's trail for some distance into the foothills, but feared to penetrate too far for fear of getting lost. The Professor reasoned that it would be much better to return to camp and give Tad a chance to find his way in in case he himself should prove to have been lost.
I ain't what you think. I'll tell you, now that the fresh young feller isn't listening." "Do so," urged Professor Zepplin, preparing to listen. "Lean over so the others won't hear." "Surely." "You're a right smart old party and I don't mind talking to you, for you've got right smart sense and you'll understand what I'm getting at." "Say what you have to say, my man. I am listening."
Above them swung an oil lantern which dimly shed its rays over the little company. Professor Zepplin was poring over an old volume that he had brought with him, while the boys were discussing the merits of their new ponies, which by this time had developed their individual peculiarities.
On down the long, sloping trail they trudged until at last they reached the point where they were obliged to get down on all fours to clamber the last fifteen feet of precipitous rocks. Eagle-eye halted, standing rigid, gazing off across the gorge. "Well, what are you waiting for?" demanded the Professor. "Come along. We shall need you." "Me stay." Professor Zepplin was angry.
"Here's his old burro now," called Walter, as a shambling object, much the worse for wear, came stumbling sleepily into camp. The boys set up a shout that was quickly checked by Tad. "If the burro can find the way what do you think an Indian could do, fellows?" "That's right," agreed Professor Zepplin. "We had better keep quiet " "And hit the trail as fast as possible," added Tad.
There are a good many in this thing whose names we do not know." "You can make the prisoner confess, can you not?" asked Professor Zepplin. "Confess?" the lieutenant laughed. "You don't know these Border Bandits. No, they never confess. There will always be more or less trouble down on the Rio Grande.
Stacy, with Ned Rector and Walter Perkins, had been lounging against the starboard rail of the "Corsair," observing Tad and the Captain as they talked. A few paces forward sat Professor Zepplin, their traveling companion, wholly absorbed in a scientific discussion with an engineer who was on his way to an Alaskan mine, of which the latter was to assume control.
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