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Pony Rider Boys on the Blue Ridge

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<h3>CHAPTER XVI</h3> <h3>A MYSTERIOUS NIGHT PROWLER</h3> Professor Zepplin, realizing that Ned Rector had made a discovery, began peering from one to the other of the pair who were indulging in such strange antics. "Stop that nonsense, I say!" he commanded. "I—I can't," yelled Stacy. "Guide, come here! I demand that you cease this foolishness." "Nassir, yassir." Chops was willing to stop. He was willing to obey orders, and he did so as far as possible. The guide had started to walk toward the Professor when suddenly he was jerked prone on his face. Professor Zepplin had observed something in the light of the campfire, however. He strode forward and threw himself upon the fallen Chops, to the great delight of the Pony Rider Boys. "Hm-m-m! I see," observed the Professor. "A rope tied to your ankle, eh?" "Yassir, yassir." "Stacy, are you tied by the ankle also?" demanded the Professor. "Yes, I'm hobbled for keeps," answered the fat boy. "I'd like to know who played this measly trick on me. Am I tied to Chops, Professor?" "It would appear that you are. Remove the rope. Whose rope is that?" Tad examined the line with which the two had been tied, with a grave face. "It is your rope, Professor. Surely, you didn't do anything like this?" questioned Tad. The boys gazed at Professor Zepplin in well-feigned amazement. "Oh, Professor!" groaned Ned. "Is it possible that you are getting frisky? It's this mountain air. I am beginning to feel like a yearling colt myself." The Professor looked his disgust. "You are mistaken, young man," he interrupted. "I know no more about it than do—" "Than do I," finished Ned. "That was what I was about to say, but I hardly think that would be correct. Now if you gentlemen will be good enough to see what has happened to those tents, and put them back, we may be able to get a wink or so of sleep before morning." "Surely, you don't think I would do a trick like that, Professor?" demanded Ned indignantly. "I am not saying. I am making no accusations, neither am I declaring any particular individual's innocence," was the stiff retort. "Why don't you blame me, while you are about it?" grumbled Stacy. "I can stand most anything now. I've been chased out of bed by a ghost, shot at by a spook, hauled out of bed by the ankles by a band of gnomes, and—" "Well, what else?" urged Tad. "Thrown down by a bunch of Veal." "Awful, awful!" groaned Ned. "Positively the most sickening pun I ever heard. Chops, did you see any spooks?" "Nassir, yassir." "Where?" "Right dar, sah." "In front of your tent?" "Nassir, yassir." "Now, Chops, what did this particular spook look like?" interjected the Professor. "Look awful, sah!" Already Tad Butler was busy replacing the overturned tents. Walter assisted in the operation. "Say, Tad, do you know who did this thing?" he inquired. "I could make an excellent guess," grinned Butler. "Do you know, I believe it was either the Professor or Ned." "Better tell the Professor what you think," suggested Tad. "Oh, I shouldn't dare to do that," protested Walter. "We usually say what we think in this outfit. Oh, Professor!" "What is it, Tad?" "Did you know we had a visitor in this camp tonight?" "From the evidences at hand I should say we had had several of them." "I don't mean it in that way. I am not saying that the disturbance here tonight was caused by any outside agency. Chunky is sure he saw a ghost. Maybe he did. Chops knows he saw a spook and I, too, saw something that disturbed me a little." "What do you mean?" demanded the Professor, fixing a keen gaze on the face of Tad Butler. "There was a strange man in this camp tonight." "Was—was he the ghost-man?" stammered Chunky. "He may have been, though I doubt it." "Was he the fellow who tied one end of the rope to my ankles and the other end to Chops's ankles so that we would slide on our noses and skate on our wishbones when we tried to walk?" "No, I think not." "Who did it, then?" "Why, I thought you had decided that the ghost did it?" laughed Tad. Chunky regarded his companion solemnly. "Tad Butler, you're a fraud," whispered the fat boy. "What I won't do to you will be good and plenty. You're the ghost. You're the one who tied me to Chops. You're the one who shot off the gun. You're the one who tore down the house that Chops built. You're the—" "Oh, that's plenty," answered Tad with a laugh. "Do you admit it?" "Of course I don't." "Do you deny it, then?" insisted the fat boy. "In the language of the guide, 'yassir, nassir.'" "I'm wise to you," declared Stacy, after regarding his companion searchingly. "Look out!" warned Tad. "You are talking slang again." "I don't care. It takes strong language to fit this case." "Now please explain your remark of a few moments ago, Tad," requested Professor Zepplin. "I don't know that I can explain it," returned Tad. "You saw something?" "Yes, sir, I did." "What did you see?" "As I came out I saw a man dart out of the camp. He fell over the rope just to the right of the tree there at your back. Perhaps we may be able to find his trail." Taking a brand from the fire, Tad stepped over to the spot he had indicated and holding the torch down near the ground nodded to his companions who had pressed up close to the rope. "The bushes certainly are broken down there," declared Ned. "Maybe that's where the Professor tried to turn a somersault," suggested Stacy. "What were you trying to do, Professor?" chuckled Ned. "We will leave that for future discussion," answered Professor Zepplin dryly. "Someone surely has been floundering about here, that is a fact." "This is where I saw him fall," affirmed Tad. "Tad, what sort of person was he? How did he look?" questioned the Professor. "I was unable to see. It was too dark here." "Maybe it was the ghost," suggested Stacy. "Ghosts do not leave such a broad trail as this," answered Tad. "One of them did tonight," answered the fat boy suggestively, whereat Tad Butler grinned. "I don't like this at all," mused the Professor. "We must keep watch every night hereafter. Have you any suspicion that the mysterious visitor played the trick on us?" "No, sir, he did not," replied Tad soberly. The Professor eyed Tad reflectively, then asked no more questions along this line. Tad, taking a fresh brand, followed the trail away from the camp, the others of the party bringing up the rear. Tad was recognized as the best trailer among them, so the work of following this trail was left wholly to him. They had proceeded away from the camp in a southwesterly direction for a full quarter of a mile when Tad halted. Swinging his torch from one side to the other he finally fixed upon a certain spot. Looking up at his companions he nodded. "Here is the place," he declared enigmatically. "What place?" questioned Chunky, crowding in. "The place where the visitor tethered his horse. And if you will look just to the left of Ned Rector, you will discover something else." The Pony Rider Boys uttered exclamations of amazement. There a little to Ned's left lay a battered sombrero. "Somebody was here," breathed the Professor. "Yes!" cried Tad. "I know who that somebody was, too," he shouted triumphantly, dropping down on his knees with face so close to the ground that Chunky wanted to know if Tad were going to eat grass. <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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