k
him as funny. He laughed aloud.

"Chunky's got them again," chuckled Ned Rector.

Stacy waited until all hands were looking ahead when he tried the
imitation that he believed had caused his mount to halt. His success
was instantaneous. The pony leaped clear of the ground, coming down
with a jolt that made the boy's head ache.

"What's the matter with that horse?" called Captain McKay.

"Guess he's feeling his oats," flung back Chunky. The boy hugged
himself delightedly. What he had done was to give a trilling tongue
movement accompanied by a hiss. It was a perfect imitation of the
trilling hiss of the rattlesnake. When Stacy had first given the
imitation he did not realize what he was doing. He had fooled his
pony. The Pony Rider Boy was delighted. He tried it again with
equal success, though this time he was thrown forward on the neck of
his mount. This jolt nearly broke Stacy Brown in two.

"That was the blow that near killed papa," grinned the lad. "I never
knew I could do that. I reckon. I'll be having some fun with this
outfit. Yes, I'll try it on right now."

Stacy spurred his pony close up to the leaders. The lad's face was
solemn, but it shone like an Eskimo's after a full meal of blubber.
Ned Rector was next ahead of the fat boy. Chunky pretended not to
see Rector. Riding close up to him, the fat boy softly gave his
rattlesnake imitation.

Ned Rector made a high dive, landing head first in a thicket of
mesquite brush, while his pony was left kicking and bucking on the
trail. Stacy was having more trouble with his own pony.

"Whoa, there, you fool! Whoa! What's got into this beastly pinto?"
howled the fat boy.

"That's what I'd like to know too," snapped the captain, wheeling his
horse, giving the fat boy a quick, sharp glance.

Ned, having picked himself out of the mesquite bush, was limping back.

"You hit him, Stacy Brown!" shouted Rector.

"I never touched him. What's the matter with you?" protested Chunky
indignantly.

"No quarreling, boys," warned the professor.

"Well, he doesn't want to be poking my pony!"

"Well, he doesn't want to be accusing me of poking his old bundle of
bones."

"Pretty lively critter for a bundle of bones, I should say," answered
the captain grimly.

"Nobody trailing," announced the scouts returning a few minutes later.
The captain may have had a suspicion, but if so he kept it to himself,
making no reply to the report of his two scouts.