t.

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. "Oh, I knew we should be in this war sooner or later,
but I didn't think I should be the first man to get shotted up."

"It means some one has been trying to shoot us up," answered Rector.

"Trying!" exploded Chunky. "They did more than try. They succeeded.
Don't you see this wound on my countenance? Wait till I get sight of
the man who put that mark on my face. I'll bear the scar for life.
I-----"

"It is my opinion that we are in a dangerous position," declared the
professor, getting up and glancing about him apprehensively.

"We were. We are all right here for a little while," replied Tad.
"But we shall have to seek other quarters, I am afraid, and that
without delay."

"Surely, it must be a mistake," protested the professor. "Some one
must have been shooting at us under a misapprehension that we were
another party."

"It doesn't make any difference what their motive is, sir," answered
Tad. "The fact remains that some one is trying to get us and we must
look lively or they will pink one or more of us. Get up, Stacy! You
are all right. Lead your pony in here while I take an observation."

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. They must protect themselves and at once if they
expected to get out alive. One course was plainly open to them. They
could mount their ponies and ride out over the plains at a gallop and
perhaps escape. However, this plan was rather risky. Besides, Tad
did not like the idea of running away.

"No, we've got to do something else," he declared out loud. "I have
it!" The boy brought his pony up standing and gazed off over the plain
to a point about a quarter of a mile beyond, where the plain rolled
into a hollow, a "hog hollow" as it was called down there.

Butler galloped back to where his companions were standing anxiously
awaiting him.

"W