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Pony Rider Boys on the Blue Ridge

<h3>CHAPTER XIV</h3> <h3>THE PROFESSOR TAKES A HAND</h3> "Make 'em dance!" shouted the second man. Two revolvers banged. Tad's pony leaped up into the air, for the two shots had been fired right under the pony's hind feet. Ere the lad could subdue the little animal two more shots had landed under the fetlocks of the spirited animal. "Stop that!" thundered the Professor. "Don't be alarmed, Professor. They are only bluffing," called Tad. "I'll take care of these gentlemen when I get my pony subdued." Bang, bang! Two bullets fanned the feet of Professor Zepplin's mount. This was more than the old fighter could endure. He whipped out his own revolver and began peppering the ground under the feet of the mountaineers' horses. It was the turn of the assailants' animals to cut up now. And they did, threatening to unhorse their riders. At the moment when the Professor let go his bullets the supposed officer was about to fire another shot under Professor Zepplin's mount. But the pony leaping, spoiled the mountaineer's aim. One of his shots bored a hole through the crown of the Professor's hat. A bullet from the Professor's revolver fanned the cheek of the mountaineer. "Hold your fire!" shouted Tad to his companions. The mountaineer, not waiting to reload, began tugging at his other weapon. Tad drove his pony straight at the man who, by this time, was leveling the pistol at Professor Zepplin. The Pony Rider Boy hit the weapon with his quirt. The bullet went high above the head of its intended victim. The second swing of the quirt was even more of a surprise to the mountaineer than had been the first. The quirt landed on the fellow's cheek with such force as to lay it open and draw blood. Before the man could recover, Tad Butler had fastened upon his collar, and the fellow was jerked from his saddle and landed heavily on the hard ground. "Cover the other man!" shouted Tad. Four guns were pointed at the other mountaineer, who was so dazed over the sudden and unexpected turn of affairs that he seemed to have lost power of action of any sort. In the meantime Butler had quickly disarmed the man whom he had so cleverly unhorsed, taking possession of his weapons and throwing them away. The lad stepped quickly to the still mounted rider and walking right up beside him stretched up a hand. "Give me that pistol!" commanded the lad. The horseman hesitated. The boys held their breath. They expected to see Tad Butler shot where he stood. Nothing of the sort occurred. The man glanced quickly at the menacing weapons of the Pony Rider Boys, down into the resolute, fearless face of Tad Butler, then shoved the weapon, muzzle first, into Butler's face. Tad didn't even wink. "The other end to, if you please," he warned. With a grunt the horseman turned the gun about and threw it rather than handed it to the victor. "Now jerk that rifle out of your boot and drop it on the other side of your horse. Be quick. There will be some real shooting here if you dilly-dally any longer. We've stood all we're going to take from you ruffians." The Pony Rider Boys gave a yell as the mountaineer's weapon dropped to the ground. By this time the supposed officer had scrambled to his feet. He was white with rage. He started for the weapons that Tad had taken from him. "Steady, my friend!" warned the Professor. "This weapon in my hand might—might, you understand—go off unexpectedly. Right about face and get into your saddle. Mount!" "I'll have the law on you!" roared the defeated mountaineer. "Then why don't you? You say you are the law. Take us!" "Get out of here, both of you, and don't you dare show your faces again," commanded Butler. "And before you leave," added the Professor, "let me say that at the first opportunity I'll have the sheriff on your trail. Now go!" With the howls of the delighted Pony Rider Boys ringing in their ears the two mountaineers rode away as fast as they could drive their ponies. "Now where's your black cat?" demanded Tad with a grin. "Oh, he's chasing a two-legged rat through the chaparral," answered the fat boy carelessly. Professor Zepplin wiped the perspiration from his forehead with a savage swish of the handkerchief. "The scoundrels!" he exclaimed, making a strong effort to control himself. "The scoundrels!" "I agree with you, Professor," nodded Tad. "It's my opinion that we had better get out of this country," declared Walter Perkins. "We shall not. I am going on now, even if they bring in a regiment to put us out!" fairly shouted Professor Zepplin. "Hurrah for the Professor! Three cheers for the Professor!" cried Ned. The boys gave three ringing cheers and a tiger. "That will do, boys. We will be on our way now," said the Professor, having regained his composure. "Are you going to leave the weapons of those men here, Tad?" asked Walter. "Yes, but I'm going to fix them so they won't be of much use to their owners," replied Tad. The lad, after drawing the charges from the guns, hammered them over a rock until the barrels of the rifles were bent and twisted and the butts broken, rendering the weapons utterly useless. He then took apart the revolvers and after damaging the parts so that the pistols could not be used heaped the remains of the mountaineers' arsenal on the rock over which he had broken them. "I guess those guns won't do any damage," grinned the Pony Rider Boy. "I'm ready for the hike now, fellows." The hike began at once. Even Chops, who had fled at the first indication of trouble, now came out from his hiding place and, mounting his horse, joined the procession. "I reckon we've given those fellows a scare that will last them for a time," announced Tad, after they had traveled a short distance from the scene of the conflict. "But it was only a near fight after all. They hoped to frighten us. I don't believe they intended to do us harm." "Yes, and I am surprised at you, Professor," reproved Stacy. "Why?" "I never knew you were such a savage. Why, if we hadn't restrained you, you would have hurt somebody. Don't ever let me hear you advising me to control my temper." The Professor interrupted with an exclamation of disgust. "I wish I knew what is in the wind," reflected Tad. "However, I don't suppose we shall know the motive for this attack. If ever we do you will see that it is some piece of rascality." "I am of the same opinion," agreed Professor Zepplin. "I wish we knew where to find a sheriff or a constable, or whatever they may call them in this region." "Why don't you get a telephone?" suggested Chunky. The boys jeered. "Yes, why don't we?" demanded Ned. "Just the very thing! Professor, if you don't mind I'll run over and call up the sheriff and—" "Tell him you've discovered the black cat," finished Stacy. "Br-r-r!" said the fat boy, chancing to catch the eye of Billy Veal. Billy exhibited signs of a panic. "Let the guide alone," commanded the Professor. "We have had quite enough trouble resulting from your pranks." "That's right, lay it all to me. I can stand it. That's what you have me along for—to take the blame for everything else that the rest of you don't want to stand for." "Oh, pooh! Can't you take a joke?" laughed Ned, riding up and slapping Stacy on the back. "You know we are only taking advantage of your giving us a chance to have fun with you. This outfit would be tame as fishing in a washtub if it weren't for you, Stacy Chunky Brown." Chunky regarded Rector with round eyes. "Do you mean that, Ned Rector?" "Of course I do." "Boo-hoo!" mocked the fat boy. "That's the first kind wor-r-d I've had since I left my happy home in Chillicothe. Give me your kind old hand, Ned Rector. May I never hold a dirtier one!" "There! See! You won't let me be good to you. Remember, I tried to make amends for a lot of things I've said to and about you, but you wouldn't let me. This is the last time I try to make up. Do your worst." "I will," agreed Chunky solemnly. "You mean you have," called Tad. "No, I mean I will." "All right, only for goodness' sake don't try it on me." "There are indications of gold here!" The Professor's voice was calm and analytical. "What?" shouted the boys. Professor Zepplin was leaning from his saddle, keenly scrutinizing the rocks at the side of the trail. "I said, there are indications of gold in the quartz rock here—" "Gold! Gold! Lead me to it," shouted Stacy. "I need some right now. Show it to me!" "Kindly curb your emotions, Stacy," rebuked the Professor, eyeing the fat boy sternly. "I need that gold," insisted Master Brown, unabashed. "Please hand it to him, Professor," urged Tad. "Then Stacy will be able to pay what he owes me." "Always that reminder of debt!" snorted Chunky indignantly. "What does a debt amount to between friends?" "That isn't a very honest view to take, Stacy," teased Butler, "Honest?" sputtered Chunky. "Tad Butler, I'm honest, and you know it! I owe you a few dimes, and I'd sooner owe them to you all my life than cheat you out of the money." But Tad wasn't listening. He was off his pony now, bending near the Professor, and listening intently to what that scientific gentleman had to say of the gold signs. "As to whether there is gold enough here to amount to what miners call 'pay dirt,'" Professor Zepplin continued, "I don't care to say just yet. Gold is plentiful in these mountains, yet there is rarely enough of it found in one place to pay for the trouble of getting it." "Show me the gold," pleaded Chunky. "Here is color," replied the Professor, resting a fingertip on a dull yellowish streak. "I don't see the gold," said Stacy, after a hard stare. "You're not used to the sight," jibed Tad. "Now, Walter's father is a banker, and I'll wager Walter has seen a lot of it at the bank." "Only a few bushels of it at a time," said Walter dryly. "Of course a bushel of gold is a tame sight." "That's enough! That's enough! I can't think in such large amounts. Pints are about as far as I can go when it comes to gold," retorted Stacy. "Pennies, you mean," suggested Ned mischievously. Chunky gave him a withering glance, then turned his attention to what the Professor was saying. The Professor was chipping away at the rock with his little geological hammer, carefully selecting samples of the ore, which he tucked in his coat pocket for future examination. "Guide, do you think you would be able to lead us to this spot again were we desirous of returning here?" "Nassir, yassir." "He means that he could," interpreted Butler. "If he couldn't I could. I can follow any trail that I have been over. Is it so interesting as all that, Professor?" "Mind you, I am not saying that it is. After I have made a test I shall be in better position to answer that question. Guide, has anyone, to your knowledge, discovered gold hereabouts?" "Yassir; Ah doan know. Ah nebbah found no gold heah—nebbah found no gold nowhere. Nassir." The boys shouted. "He is just like Chunky. Pennies are his gait," scoffed Ned. "I thought we'd agreed to cut—to stop using slang," reminded Stacy. "Ned, Stacy is right. He has properly rebuked you this time," laughed Tad. "Yes, sir. He did catch me napping, didn't he?" "There he goes again, Professor," shouted Chunky. "Well, I am not so sure. One would, indeed, have to draw the line very finely to class 'catch me napping' as a slang expression. As a matter of fact, it may be so, but I should hardly go so far as to characterize it as such," differed Professor Zepplin. Ned winked at Stacy, but the fat boy, holding his chin high, pretended not to see the wink. So interested was the Professor in his find that he decided to make camp for the night in that vicinity. Tad and Walter were sent out to choose a suitable site for pitching the tents. They found an ideal spot by a trickling stream of water that oozed from a crevice in the rocks, falling into a natural rocky bowl, almost if the bowl had been hewn to hold the sparkling fluid. Of course Tad saw at once that the water had worn away the rock, thus forming the bowl. Many years had been required to wear away the stone, all of which set Tad Butler to thinking over the wonders of time as well as those of nature. They pitched their camp there that night. But the night was not destined to pass without some further excitement. Excitement had come to be almost a necessary part of the daily routine of the Pony Rider Boys, and they counted that day a dull one that held no thrills. <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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