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Pony Rider Boys in Louisiana

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<h2>CHAPTER IV</h2> <h3>NATURE BLOWS OUT A FUSE</h3> "We've blown out a fuse!" yelled Tad. "Shut off the current!" cried Ned Rector. "I'm shot, I'm shot!" howled the fat boy, leaping out into the open, as had Rector and Walter. "Help! Help!" "Get back!" shouted Tad. "Don't go out there barefooted. Don't—" Bang! Bang! Bang! The explosions became so rapid that the boys could not have counted them had they desired to do so. A dull red glow showed in two of the tents. "We are on fire!" yelled Butler. "Use your blankets. Stamp it out!" Tad did not take his own advice not to step out in bare feet. He sped swiftly to his pony, and, grabbing a heavy blanket, raced back and into his own tent where, by this time, the flames had started up briskly. Throwing the blanket on the flames, Tad trod up and down, dancing a jig as he sought to beat out the flames. His quick work smothered them in short order, but at the end the boy's feet were swollen and blistered. The guide had not been idle all this time; he had used the same tactics as had Tad, assisted by Rector, while Stacy Brown was dancing up and down yelling "Fire!" at the top of his voice. "Stop calling for the firemen and go to work," ordered Tad. "The firemen can't hear you." "They would be deaf if they couldn't," answered Ned from the adjoining tent. "What do you think you are yelling about, anyway?" "Fire, fire!" "You are slower than cream on a cold day," laughed Tad. "The fire is out." "Then if there's nothing else to do will someone please tell me what blew up?" asked Ned. "That is what I should like to know," nodded Tad. "Why, the campfire blew up," Stacy informed them. "We know that, but what caused it?" "I—I don't know unless you fellows threw in some cartridges," replied Chunky. "Cartridges!" exploded Ned. "Don't you think we have better use for our ammunition?" "Guide, what is the meaning of this?" questioned the Professor. "We will find out. I am somewhat curious myself. Ah!" "What have you found?" asked Tad, springing into the tent where Lilly was pawing over some sticks that had fallen inside. Lilly handed a stick of cane to Tad, who observed that the stalk had been blown out as if from an interior explosion. "I don't understand, Mr. Lilly." "Some of that cane got in the fire and blew up." "Why, I never heard of such a thing," wondered Tad. "Yes, it is quite common. This stuff is very combustible when dry. When in that condition, and the hot air is confined in the hollow sections, there is sure to be an explosion and loud one, too. That is what happened here tonight." "Did you put cane on the fire, Mr. Lilly?" "No, I didn't. Ichabod, did you?" "No, sah, Ah doan' put no cane on dat fiah, sah. Ah reckons Ah know'd bettah dan to do a thing like dat, sah. Ah suah does." "Hm-m-m!" mused the guide reflectively. "Any of you boys put cane on the fire?" No one answered. Tad shot a keen glance at Stacy who was standing at the opening of his tent. "Well, what have you to say for yourself, young man?" demanded Tad. "I? Nothing," answered the fat boy. "That was a nice trick to play on us when we were sleeping so soundly, now wasn't it?" demanded Tad. "I—I didn't know the stuff would go off like a gun. I—I—" "We might have known who did it," chuckled Rector. "I am glad you admit it, Stacy," said Tad with a grin. "Better to make a clean breast right at the beginning. You know we are sure to find you out, no matter how cute you may think you are." "I—I didn't do anything." "No, you didn't do anything. You merely put some cane on the fire so it would explode and give us a scare. You nearly burned up the outfit." "Stacy, did you do this?" demanded the Professor sternly. "I—I guess I did." "Why?" "Well, you see, I was awakened by those villainous mosquitoes, so I got up, went outside, and put some wood on the fire—that's all I did." "Well, what then?" urged the Professor. "Then the whole business went off." "He did not know the cane would explode," spoke up the guide, who had been tugging at his moustache while listening and regarding Stacy narrowly. "No, no, that's right; I didn't know. How should I know that the stuff was loaded? Is this country full of stuff like that that will blow up if you look crosswise at it?" "The cane always will explode when subjected to sufficient heat," replied the guide. "First time I ever knew that trees would blow up. I—I guess this isn't much of a place to go around with matches in your pocket. Wha—what's that?" stammered the fat boy in a scared tone. "Waugh, waugh, waugh." The other boys now took heed. They too were wondering what the strange new sound might mean, and glanced apprehensively at Billy Lilly for the answer. The guide was still tugging at his moustache, grinning behind his hand. "Waugh, waugh, waugh, waugh!" This time the sound seemed nearer. The dogs were growling, some straining at their leashes, a dark ridge showing along the back of each. "The dogs have their rough up. Something is around here. I am going to find out what it is for myself," declared Tad Butler, slipping on his boots and snatching up a rifle. "Where are you going?" asked the guide. "I am going to investigate, that's all. You may know what that noise is, but I don't. It may be a bear for all we know." Tad slipped out back of the tent. There followed a sharp flash, and a crash, then a series of wild "waugh, waugh, waugh, waughs," a great scurrying and floundering in the bushes. "Ha, ha! Missed him, didn't you?" shouted the guide. "I did not," answered the Pony Rider Boy calmly. Then the listeners heard Tad utter a groan of disgust. Billy Lilly slapped his thighs and laughed loudly. "That's a good joke on the old scout, eh? That's certainly a good one. Well, what did you get?" Tad walked in and shoved his gun into his tent. "You knew what it was all the time, didn't you, Mr. Lilly?" "Surely I knew. You didn't think I had been in these brakes all these years without knowing all about them, did you?" "Wha—what did you shoot, Tad?" stammered Stacy. "What did I shoot? Gentlemen, I shot a pig," answered Butler in a tone of disgust. "Pork! I am a rank tenderfoot. Stacy, please kick me." "I—I can't. I'm in my stocking feet. Oh, I wish I had my boots on. I'll never get another opportunity like this," wailed the fat boy in mock sorrow. This raised another laugh. Lilly forgot to tug at his tawny moustache and straightening back against a tree opened his mouth and uttered a loud "Haw, haw, haw." "You laugh like a burro I knew down in New Mexico," observed Stacy, eyeing the guide narrowly, ready to run in case Lilly should take exception to his remark. "Now, if you boys want any sleep, suppose we turn in again," suggested Lilly. "I am going to feed the campfire first," answered Tad. "I don't propose to leave that to Master Stacy. Next time he will blow up the outfit." "No, I reckon we had better set a watch over him. He's worse'n the mosquitoes," declared Billy. <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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