"What!" exclaimed the boys in one voice.

"You heard me. If Professor Zepplin has not returned by to-morrow morning I'm off for a.s.sistance and a fresh supply of food."

"And leave us here alone?" cried Chunky.

"Don't you see, fellows," continued Tad, "the Professor undoubtedly is in a worse fix than we are. He may wander about the mountains until he starves. I've simply got to stir somebody up to start out hunting for him. By remaining here we are only getting deeper into trouble.

Don't you understand that?"

"Yes," admitted Ned. "But, then, why not let us all go with you?"

"Yes, that's the idea," interjected Walter.

"No, that is not good judgment."

"Why not?"

"In the first place some one must remain here to watch our outfit. We don't want to lose anything more than we have."

The boys nodded.

"Secondly, the Professor might possibly find his way back here, and the chances are he would lose himself again trying to find us."

"That's so," chorused the boys.

"And thirdly, as the Professor says, I can get along a lot faster alone than if you are all with me."

"Fellows, I understand why our friend Tad Butler wears a hat a size and a half larger than any of us--his head's bigger. Yes, you're right, Tad."

"Yes, yes," shouted Walter and Stacy, "that's the reason."

"And don't I get all I want to eat until he-he--until Tad gets back?"

"That depends upon how much you want. Judging from past experience, I should say you wouldn't," replied Ned.

"But what will happen to us if you get lost, Tad?"

"Yes, yes, that's what I want to know?" questioned Ned.

"I'll see that I don't."

"How?"

"This time I am going to blaze every tree I pa.s.s, with my hunting knife. It will enable me to get back if I fail to find the way, and it also will serve to guide the men here, if I find any to return with me."

"I take off my hat to you," exclaimed Ned.

"How many eggs have we left, Ned?"

"A dozen hard boiled ones, I think."

"Then I'll take three. I'll eat one for breakfast and carry the other two with me. That will leave three apiece for the rest of you."

"Oh, take a drink of water from that--that spring and save your egg till you need it," suggested Chunky.

"I'm going to start early in the morning, so I guess I'll turn in now.

Remember, you are not to leave this place till I get back--that is, unless the Professor should return in the meantime."

"We promise," answered the lads together.

After putting the camp in shape for the night and attending to the mules the boys turned in and slept the night through without further incident.

Next morning when they turned out, Tad Butler had gone. On a piece of paper pinned to a tree they found a note reading: "I'm off, fellows.

Bye."

CHAPTER XII

ALL GONE BUT TWO

"Well," grunted Ned Rector, as he served the meager breakfast, "at this rate there soon will be nothing left of the Pony Rider Boys except the skeletons of two mules."

Chunky, solemn-visaged, was munching his hard boiled egg slowly, in an effort to make it last as long as possible.

"This all I get to eat to-day?"

"Eat? No, certainly not. I'm going to cook all the rest of the day for you. Let's see, you shall have a porterhouse steak, fried potatoes, some nice fresh salad and a soup plate of ice cream and--"

"And a finger bowl," finished Chunky, without the suspicion of a smile.

"Yes, with egg water in it," added Ned.

It was the longest day they had ever put in. There was no difference of opinion on that point when the day was ended. They had hoped to hear from Tad before nightfall. He did not return, however, and they had little hopes of his doing so now that the darkness was coming on.

There was no merriment in the camp that night. By dint of careful management they had saved enough out of their supplies to give them a light breakfast on the following morning, After that they had no idea how they should manage, providing no a.s.sistance came to them.

The mules were the only indifferent ones in the party. They munched the green leaves contentedly, sleeping when they were not eating.

Near the middle of the night one of the animals set up a loud braying which brought the boys from their cots in quick alarm. At first they could not imagine what it was. They tumbled out, shouting to each other.

"What is it, Indians?" cried Stacy, dancing about in his pajamas.

"No, it's nothing but a mule with an overloaded stomach," answered Ned turning back to his tent growling his disgust.

"Wish it wouldn't dream quite so loudly," grumbled Chunky.

When morning came, and still no tidings from either the Professor or Tad, the boys began to realize the seriousness of their position.