Walter smiled knowingly.

"That has all been taken care of, fellows. Tour fathers, as well as mine, know all about it."

"You don't mean it?" marveled Ned.

"Yes."

"Is Tad Butler going on that old skate of his?" bristled Chunky.

"I can't say as to that," answered Walter.

"Well, if he does, it's me for home. Why, we never would get beyoud the water works station, he would be so slow. Does my uncle know about Tad's old mare?"

"Never mind about the mare," growled Ned Rector. "We have other and more important matters to attend to just now."

"Yes, and we shall have to settle among ourselves what we are to take along, though father said he had a man who would look out for all that. We are going to rough it, you understand, so we shall have to leave behind all our fine clothes. And sometimes we may go without meals, even. But we all will sleep out-of-doors, most likely, every night after we get started. In the meantime, I would suggest that we practice riding--that is, form ourselves into a sort of company with a regular captain. I move that Tad Butler be made captain, and he can drill us."

"You don't need to make that motion," announced Ned, springing to his feet, full of excitement. "He will be our captain without being elected. He already is master of horse. It's now up to Tad to get busy and drill us. We will begin to-morrow afternoon."

Tad, who had taken no part in the conversation, now shook his head slowly, which caused the others to shout in chorus:

"You won't!"

"Of course I will drill you, if you boys wish it. But, you know I can't go with you. Therefore, you had tetter make some one of you three fellows the captain."

"Why can't you go?" demanded Ned Rector. "Of course you are going."

"In the first place, I am too busy," answered Tad with a wan smile. "Then there are other reasons. I can't afford it. I must stay at home and earn money this summer. Then, again, I have no pony."

"Oh pshaw!" growled Ned. "That's too bad. I would rather stay at home myself."

Tad flashed an appreciative glance at him.

"Thank you. But I would rather you went, Ned. I'll drill you willingly if you boys want me to."

"That's right," approved Walter. "Perhaps something may turn up in the meantime, so you can go with us. It really will spoil our trip if you don't go along."

"Nothing will turn up. Nothing can turn up. I tell you, I must stay at home with my mother. But I don't even know where you are going. I can drill you to better purpose if I know what sort of riding you expect to do."

"Yes! Where are we going?" demanded Chunky, with quickened interest.

"That's so. I hadn't thought of that. Where did your father say we were to ride to? We must be going quite a distance away, judging by all the preparations," besought Ned Rector. "And, by the way, are you sure you are right about this business, Walt?"

"There is no doubt," smiled Walter Perkins good-naturedly. "That is what this meeting was called for--to tell you about it. It was left to me to announce it to you boys, because it is my party, if you want to call it that. And you want to know where you are going?"

"Yes, of course we do," they shouted.

"Boys, we are going to the Rocky Mountains! We are going over the roughest and wildest part of them. Perhaps we shall go where no white man's foot ever has trod. We shall be explorers. What do you think of it?"

For a full moment no one spoke.

Each was too full of the wonderful news to do more than gape at the speaker. Only the sound of their labored breathings broke the stillness.

"Will--will there be bears and things there?" asked Stacy, hesitatingly.

"I presume so," smiled Walter.

"Ugh! And snakes?"

"Maybe."

"Rattlers. I've read about them out there," added Ned.

"I--I guess I'll stay home," stammered the president.

"Don't be a baby," jeered Ned. "I rather think you'll be able to stand it if the rest of us can. And, besides, Walt's professor will be along. He'll fix the animals and reptiles with, his cold, scientific eye till they'll be glad to run away and leave us to ourselves."

"You boys are to come over to my house tomorrow night, when father is going to tell you more about it. He has not told me everything yet. But he directed me to give you the main points of the plan, which I have done."

"I propose three cheers for Walter Perkins and his father," cried Ned, springing to his feet. The boys joined in the cheers with a will, Tad no less loudly than the rest, though there was no joy in his face now. The boy's disappointment was keen, yet he determined that his friends should not see it. And, as quickly as he could do so, Tad slipped away and went home to fight out his boyish sorrow all alone.

Tad's mother found him out in the barn half an hour later, vigorously grooming the old mare. Mrs. Butler smiled to herself as she observed that he studiously managed to keep the mare between himself and her as he worked.

"Do you want to sell Jinny?" she asked after a little.

"What?"

Tad was all attention now.

"I said, do you want to sell your horse?"

"No. That is, I might if I got enough for her. But I can't say that I am anxious to. Why, I am making plenty of money with her," answered Tad coining out from behind the mare. "What made you ask that question, Mother?"

"I didn't know but you might be willing to part with her. And then, with the money you might be able to purchase a better one--a horse that you would be able to earn more money with."

Tad studied his mother's face a moment inquiringly.

"Not with any money that I could get for Jinny."

"How much do you think you could get for her?"

"Not more than ten dollars. I doubt if any one would be willing to pay that, even. Who wants to buy her?"

"Yes; Mr. Secor, the butcher, spoke to me about it while I was at his house this afternoon. His delivery horse broke a leg yesterday and they had to shoot the animal to-day."

"Too bad," muttered Tad.

"He thought Jinny was just the horse he wanted, because she is so gentle and will stand without hitching. It takes too much time to hitch a delivery horse at every stop, you know!"