"How far are we from there now?" inquired Ned.

"How far, Eagle-eye?"

"Two suns."

"Two days, eh. We could make it while Eagle-eye was going there and back. I move that we wait until to-morrow. Perhaps we may find Tad some time to-day. I believe he will return, as I said before. If he does, we can start right on. Some of us will have to walk, but that doesn't matter. We are pretty well used to doing that, I guess."

"Master Ned, your suggestion is a good one. We shall adopt it. I presume the other animals are safe. The thieves certainly will not have the a.s.surance to come back again."

"No come more," affirmed the guide.

"After you have finished your breakfast I want you to start in and look for Master Butler. You'll have to find a way to get down there, even if you have to wade in the stream--"

"Spirits git um boy."

"We will leave that out of the question. You find him, that's all."

"He won't go down there," said Ned. "He may say he will, but he won't."

"I'll see that he does," replied the Professor, with a firm closing of the lips. "I have trifled long enough. Now we shall do something.

I--"

"Well, what's all the excitement about?" demanded a cheery voice behind them.

"Tad! It's Tad!" shouted the boys in chorus.

With yells of delight they pounced upon him and for a moment there was a regular football scrimmage, with Tad Butler at the bottom of the heap, the others mauling him about with shouts of glee.

It was the Pony Rider Boys' way of showing their delight at the return of their companion. But Tad did not mind it at all. 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."

"Oh, no," laughed Tad. "I knew there must be some way out, for I found a moccasin track down there in the sand before I turned in last night."

"You must have pretty good eyes to find a moccasin track in the dark,"

laughed Ned.

"I did not say it was dark. I made the discovery before that."

"Tell us about it," urged Walter.

"You didn't find any of Eagle-eye's evil spirits down there, did you?"

asked Ned.

"No. I wish I had. I should have been glad of company of any kind."

"We want to hear how you got out," spoke up Chunky. "I--I came pretty near falling in after you, too."

"Yes, I know. Well, to begin with, before I found the moccasin track I noticed that there was room to walk along by the side of the stream.

When the moon came up, not being able to sleep, for some reason--I guess it was on account of the water that made such a racket, I thought I'd look around a bit. After I got started I kept on going and going, and the further I went the less steep did the banks appeared--"

"How far did you go?" interrupted the Professor.

"I haven't the slightest idea."

"I presume you found no great change in the topographic features of--"

Tad laughed good-naturedly.

"I was trying to get out, Professor. Finally, I found a place that looked good and after I had scrambled up some fifteen feet I discovered that I had struck a trail. It had been in use not long since. What for I cannot imagine. The rest was very easy. I reached the top of the cliff just after daylight."

"How--how did you find your way back?" wondered Stacy.

"I followed along the ridge. After a while I saw the smoke from your camp-fire, then I hurried in and here I am."

"You always were a lucky fellow," laughed Ned. "Now if that had been myself I should have been down there yet, or else in the river or whatever you call that stream down there."

"Got anything to eat?" asked Tad. "My appet.i.te this morning is a thing to be feared."

"Depends upon how much the guide has eaten," replied Walter. "I guess you will have to lick the frying pan."

"Yes, that's all he'll get," added Ned. "Any fellow who has filled up on canned peaches and the like doesn't need any more than that."

"Professor," continued Tad, "I would suggest that we pack up and move along down until we come to the trail. We can all then work into the gorge leaving the ponies on top. It will be an easy matter for us to pack the stuff to the top. We'll be in good shape then. Shall we do it?"

"Yes, yes," answered the Professor absently.

"Come on then, fellows. I'll tighten my belt and save my appet.i.te until we get something like real food to eat. Licking a frying pan won't satisfy my longings this morning. I'll pack the ponies while you are striking the tents. I--"

Tad turned, gazing at them curiously. They were strangely silent.

The lad felt instinctively that something had gone wrong, for Tad Butler was quick to catch a suggestion.

"Well, what is it all about? You are as solemn as a lot of owls at sunrise. Anything happened?"

Walter nodded.

"It's about the ponies, Master Tad," the Professor informed him.

"The ponies? Which ponies? Are they hurt?" exclaimed the lad sharply.

"We don't know," answered Professor Zepplin.

"Then what is the matter? Don't keep me in suspense."

"Gone," growled Ned dismally.

"Where?"