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Pony Rider Boys on the Blue Ridge

<h3>CHAPTER XVII</h3> <h3>PROSPECTORS IN THE HILLS</h3> "No, I am not," answered Tad, "but I am going to tell you who our late caller was. We have seen him before." "Who—what?" cried the Professor. "He was one of the two men who assaulted us yesterday." "Are you sure, Tad?" "Yes, I'm pretty sure of it," answered Butler, gazing at the ground reflectively. "But how do you know?" "One of the two ponies those men had, had a broken shoe on the off hind foot. The horse that was tethered here had a shoe that was broken, and the broken shoe was on the off hind foot also. As nearly as I can remember, the shoe was broken in exactly the same place that this one is. It seems to me like a pretty clear case against these fellows. What do you think, Professor?" "Indisputable evidence, I should say. You did not observe anything familiar about the man, you say?" "No, sir." "Those rascals mean mischief. That is certain." "They can't do us any harm unless they try to take a pot shot at us when we aren't looking, which I hardly think they will do," ventured Butler. "They aren't desperate enough. But I should like to know what the motive is underneath it all." "I can't help but think that in some way they are connected with Griffin," asserted Ned. "Yes, that may be," agreed Professor Zepplin. "Do you wish me to follow the trail, Professor?" asked Tad, glancing up. "No, I think not. It would be likely to prove a fruitless chase." "That is my opinion too." The party now slowly retraced its way to camp. In speculating about the greater mystery they appeared to have forgotten the recent ghostly disturbances in the camp, though it was pretty generally understood that the latter incidents were due to a prank of one of the boys. That one boy, as the reader already surmises, was Tad Butler. Tad had evened his score with the fat boy for all the latter's pranks on him and the others, and Stacy knew it. The fat boy was shrewd. He said no more about his fright, but Tad observed that Stacy frequently cast reproachful glances in his direction. Tad remained on watch for the rest of the night. They made an early start on the following morning, and, as on the previous day's journeyings, they found rough going all the way, with great rocks towering high above them, cut here and there by frequent deep, gloomy canyons. About noon of this day as they were slowly riding through one of the rifts in the mountains, they pulled up sharply at a signal from Tad. "What is it?" demanded the Professor, realizing that Butler had made a discovery. Tad pointed ahead of them. The Professor gazed in the direction indicated. "Fog?" he asked. "I think not. It looks to me like smoke," answered the Pony Rider Boy. "Who, Smoke Griffin?" piped Stacy in a loud voice. "No, just plain smoke. And if you please, don't speak so loudly," admonished Tad. "Hm-m-m. What would you suggest?" asked the Professor. "I would suggest that we climb the side of the canyon," said Chunky with emphasis. "On the contrary, we will go straight ahead," replied Tad with a firm compression of the lips. "It may be our enemies who are waiting for us," suggested Rector. "I hope it is," answered Tad. "Yes, so do I. I rather think I shall have something to say to those gentlemen when next I have an opportunity to speak with them," added Professor Zepplin grimly. Tad touched his pony with the spur. The party moved on, no one speaking, each instinctively looking to his weapons, though they had little idea that they would have use for firearms. Every face wore a serious expression, every boy was wondering what they should find at the source of the smoke. They came upon that source in a sharp bend of the canyon and brought up short. Three men who had been sitting about a campfire cooking their dinner sprang up with hands on their revolvers, but which they did not draw from the holsters. Tad and Professor Zepplin rode slowly forward, the men standing by the fire, gazing with suspicious eyes at the visitors. All three were strangers. None of the party of Pony Rider Boys had ever seen the men before. "Howdy!" greeted Tad, swinging a hand in greeting. "Good afternoon, gentlemen," said the Professor. From a tent near the campfire a dog came out, barking furiously. "Who are you?" demanded one, who acted as spokesman for the three men. "We are a party out for a trip, for pleasure as well as health," answered the Professor. "Known as the Pony Rider Boys," added Tad. "Might we ask who you gentlemen are?" "My name's Jim Dunkan. That's Sam Ellison, and the other is Tom Royal. Will you get off and have a snack with us?" "Thank you. It is a pleasure to see a friendly face once more. We will accept your invitation if you will permit us to use our own supplies. Perhaps you gentlemen have not had access to fresh supplies and need all you have," suggested the Professor. "Well, we are a little short, that's a fact, sir. Introduce your party if you want to. If you don't, you don't have to," was the reply. "There is no reason why I should not. I am Professor Zepplin, in charge of the party. These young men are Thaddeus Butler, Ned Rector, Walter Perkins and Stacy Brown—" "Otherwise known as the good thing of this outfit," added Stacy solemnly. The mountaineers laughed at the fat boy's funny face. "Glad to meet you, fellows," greeted the men, stepping forward and shaking hands cordially all round. "Come far?" "We are all from Missouri," answered Tad laughingly. "Then I reckon you'll have to be shown a few things," grinned Dunkan. "We have been," answered Stacy. The boys by this time had dismounted and were tethering their horses while the mountaineers looked on curiously. "You younkers 'pear mighty handy. Guess you aren't tenderfeet," observed Sam Ellison. "Not exactly, sir," answered Butler. "We have been riding the mountains and plains for a few seasons." "Do you gentlemen live in these parts?" asked the Professor, seating himself by the fire. "No. We're up here prospecting." "Ah! Gold?" Dunkan nodded briefly. "I discovered some indications of gold yesterday," announced the Professor. The men were interested at once. They asked many questions which the Professor answered freely. When they learned that he was a geologist, among his other accomplishments, the men thawed instantly. "Maybe you wouldn't mind looking at some pay dirt for us?" questioned Tom Royal. "I should be glad to serve you in any way possible," replied the Professor cordially. "Have you struck anything yet?" "We don't know. We may have. Of course we've found evidences, but whether it's real pay dirt or not we don't know." "Yes, I came to the conclusion, after analyzing the rock I found, that gold could not be extracted from it in anything like paying quantities. Are there many others in here on similar quests?" Royal said no. "There are those here who, I reckon, have found some stuff, though," declared Dunkan. "Yes?" replied the Professor, glancing at the speaker inquiringly. Tad caught the significance of the remark and fixed his eyes on Jim Dunkan. "Others, sir?" ventured Tad. "Chops, you get the dinner going at once," directed Professor Zepplin. "I think these gentlemen would like some bacon. We have an excellent blend of coffee, gentlemen. Make a large pot, guide." "Yassir," promised Chops. "As I was saying," continued Dunkan, "there are others here who appear to have struck it rich. That is, there's one, but I don't know how many more are behind him." "May I ask who the man is?" inquired the Professor. "His name is Jay Stillman." The speaker frowned as he pronounced the name. "What sort of looking man is Stillman?" asked Tad. Dunkan described the man, whereat Tad and the Professor exchanged significant looks. "Do you know the critter?" demanded Jim suspiciously. "We think we have seen him, sir," replied Tad. "Why?" "I reckon you aren't friends of his?" "Far from it," declared the Professor with emphasis. "If he is the man we think from your description, we should like an opportunity to turn him over to a sheriff." Dunkan grinned broadly. "I reckon they're on the right side, fellows," he said, nodding to his companions. "What's he been doing to you?" "Here is the dinner," answered the Professor. "Suppose we discuss that?" "Right you are, pardner. Say that coffee does smell good." "Yes, I poured the water on it," Stacy informed them. "You can stay here and pour water on our coffee all the time, if you want to," answered Sam. "No, thank you. I am a lion hunter, not a coffee boy." "You get away with it in pretty good shape even if you're not a coffee boy," averred Dunkan. "Oh, there's a lot about Stacy Brown that you will learn before you have known him long," spoke up Ned. "Yes, I'm a mine of good things," admitted Chunky as modestly as he could. "Now about this man Stillman?" suggested the Professor. "Yes, sir, we should like to know what his game is," said Tad. "His game?" repeated Jim. "Yes, sir." "I didn't know he had any game in particular." "He tried to drive us back. He must have had a motive else he would not have done that," declared Tad. "Just pure meanness," answered Dunkan. "He wants it all to himself. He doesn't want anybody else fooling around in the mountains here. He's taking up all the land he can get hold of, and I guess he reckons on getting a fortune out of it. Why he had a man from the city up here the other day and the fellow told a man I know that there was gold enough in these hills to buy the earth." Professor Zepplin glared at the speaker. "Very interesting, indeed. Then you think he has no other motive in desiring to keep persons away from here?" "What other motive could he have?" "I am sure I do not know." "I will wager that there is another motive that you gentlemen do not know anything about," spoke up Tad. "What makes you think that?" questioned Ellison. "Everything seems to point that way, and if he bothers us any more I shall make it my business to find out." The prospectors laughed good-naturedly. "You better let that job out. Jay Stillman isn't the man for boys to fool with," advised Dunkan. Professor Zepplin bristled. "I guess you gentlemen do not know my young men." "I think I do," spoke up Ellison. "They've got the look of the real stuff about them. Can you shoot?" "Well, some," admitted Tad. "We can run, too," volunteered Stacy. "Especially when there's a ghost after you," sneered Ned. "Have you seen either of these men of late?" asked the Professor. "Sam saw Stillman yesterday and told him to mosey out of this or we'd be finding out what he was doing around our diggings." "Who is the other man who is with him?" "I don't know," answered Dunkan. "Why, that must have been Joe Batts," suggested Ellison. "Batts is about the worst ever. I wouldn't dare turn my back to him if he had any reason for wanting to get rid of me." "An excellent reputation, most excellent, you are giving these men," smiled the Professor. "Is he anything like his name?" piped Chunky. "How's that?" "Batty—like a bat, you know," explained Stacy. Professor Zepplin admonished the fat boy with a stern glance, which Chunky pretended not to see. "Do they ever bother you here in your camp or at your work?" asked Ned. "Well, I reckon not," drawled Dunkan. "In the daytime they are afraid of our guns. In the night the dog is looking after things here." "Where do they live?" interrupted Butler. "Stillman has a shack near one of the Smoky Bald's gulches. He isn't there very much, I guess. I don't know where Joe lives. I guess anywhere he can find a place soft enough to lie on," answered Dunkan with a grin. "Say, you folks better make camp here with us and kind of make this a headquarters, hadn't you?" "What do you say, boys?" questioned Professor Zepplin. "We might remain here until tomorrow," agreed Tad. "Mr. Dunkan wants you to make some tests for him, he says." "All right, boys," agreed the Professor. The lads sprang up and began opening their packs, and in a few moments their tents were being pitched, the miners watching them with interested gaze as the odd little tents went up. "Well, doesn't that beat all?" wondered Ellison. "I never saw anything quite like that outfit before. Where'd you get them?" "Mr. Butler invented those tents," answered the Professor proudly. "Then Mr. Butler's all right," smiled the miner. <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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