"And the food," reminded Stacy.

"Yes. Probably they knew you had your appet.i.te with you," laughed Ned.

In the meantime Tad had begun a search about the place for clues. He discovered where the animals had been taken from camp, but, as in the case with the loss of the other animals, the trail suddenly disappeared a short distance from camp.

"They seem to have headed for the west. We are sure of that much,"

decided Ned.

"Which means nothing at all," answered Tad. "They may have turned and gone back or else are traveling along ahead of us. In either case we can't follow them. Do you not think we had better be starting, Professor? We cannot afford to lose a minute now. I want my pony."

"And so do I--and I--and I," added the lads, one after the other.

"I think so. Yet how are we going to find our way? We shall be lost."

"No, we can't get lost, Professor," interrupted Stacy.

"Not lost--cannot get lost?"

"No."

"Why not?" glared the Professor.

"We can't get lost," announced Stacy impressively, "because we don't know where we are, anyway."

A roar of laughter greeted this a.s.sertion. It did more than anything else to put the boys in a better frame of mind--unless perhaps it might have been the return of the lost ponies.

"I am forced to admit the correctness of Master Stacy's logic,"

replied the scientist, after their laughter had subsided.

"It seems fairly simple to me," spoke up Tad. "The mountains run in a southeasterly direction. If we follow that direction we are bound to come out somewhere--"

"In Arkansas or the Indian Territory or some other place," cut in Ned Rector.

"As I understand it," went on Tad, not heeding the interruption, "these gorges or canyons in the Ozark range follow the same general direction. We have one right here by us, and we have the sun above us. Between the two we should be able to find our way."

"That sounds promising, Master Tad. You are a level-headed young man, even if you do take long chances and do foolish things now and again.

I shall adopt your suggestion and we'll be off at once."

They were forced to pack some of their belongings on the back of Professor Zepplin's mount, while each of the two mules was subjected to an additional load.

When the packing had been finished there was little room for anyone to ride, so Tad took one of the mules, Ned Rector the other, leading them by short ropes, and started off followed by Walter and Stacy on foot, with the Professor riding his own pony.

The boys moved away with broad grins on their faces as they thought of the spectacle they were creating. Yet there was none to watch their undignified progress. However, leading a mule and riding a pony were two distinctly different operations. The boys were in a hurry and the mules were not and over this difference of inclination they had many disagreements.

Once Ned lost his temper with the beast of burden that he had in tow, and used his crop rather too freely to suit the long-eared animal.

The latter kicked until he kicked the pack from his back.

Amid the shouts of laughter of his companions, his face red and perspiring, Ned was obliged to gather up the pack in sections and strap it in place again, which he did after much endeavor. Thereafter he kept his temper.

"I've heard it said that a mule wouldn't kick after twelve o'clock,"

said Chunky. "Guess it wasn't true."

"Perhaps it is after twelve o'clock at night that was meant,"

suggested Tad.

"Mules are asleep then, aren't they?"

"Supposed to be, I guess."

"Then that's it," answered the fat boy somewhat enigmatically.

They failed to make any great distance that day. How far they had advanced they did not know. Shortly before sundown they called a halt at Professor Zepplin's suggestion.

The mules went to sleep while the boys were unloading them. Ned confessed that he was nearly f.a.gged. Tad, on the other hand, declared that he had never felt better in his life.

"Hope they won't steal anymore live stock," said Ned. "If they do we'll have to pack the outfit on our own backs, which, after all, probably wouldn't be any harder than trying to lead a stubborn mule.

I think I'll tie a string around the necks of the stock and hitch the string to my big-toe to-night. Then I'll know if anybody tries to run off with them."

"Run off with your big-toes?" queried Chunky.

"No, run off with the ponies, I said--I mean the pony and the mules."

Stacy's eyes lighted up appreciatively.

"I've got a string that you can use," he said. "I'll fix it up for you. Shall I?"

"You would like to see me lose my big-toes, wouldn't you? No, thank you, I'll furnish my own string if I decide to adopt the plan."

After supper had been cooked and eaten, and the dishes washed, all hands gathered around the camp-fire, where they remained until bedtime, which on that particular night was earlier than usual, because all were more or less tired after their active day.

It was decided that some one should be left on guard lest they lose their remaining stock. The Professor took the first half of the night, Tad going on at half past twelve and remaining through the rest of the night.

Nothing occurred to disturb the camp, for which all hands were thankful. Tents were quickly struck after breakfast and once more the outfit started out on the trail after having discussed the advisability of bearing to the west a little. Their final conclusion, however, was to keep within sight of the gorge.

Two days pa.s.sed as the little outfit crawled along over the rough mountain pa.s.ses, down through broad deep washes and narrow draws. It was trying work, but the lads kept up their spirits. So inured were they to hardships, by this time, that the unusual strain gave them little or no inconvenience.

On the morning of the third day they had about decided to change the course and try to find their way out of the mountains as the quickest method of getting out of their predicament.

They were gathering their equipment together preparatory to making a start in the new direction, when Tad startled the camp by a sudden exclamation of surprise.

"What is it this time?" cried the Professor, prepared for almost any surprise.

"I see smoke!"

"Oh, is that all," answered Ned disgustedly, not at first realizing the importance of the announcement to them. "I thought maybe you had discovered the missing ponies."

"Perhaps I have. Who knows? At any rate, don't you see it means we are going to meet some human beings at last? We haven't seen one, outside of our own party, in several days, though we have good reason for thinking that one or more has been near us."