ything would go to sleep with Chunky
on hand," declared Ned.

"You fellows are too funny! I don't care what you think. I'm going to
have something to eat. Where's the biscuit?"

"Packed."

"Then we'll unpack them again. I guess I've got as much right to the
grub of this outfit as the next one."

With that Stacy helped himself to such of the food as he was able to
find. In order to get what he wanted he was obliged to undo three of
the large packs. Once undone no one would help him lash them together
again, so grumbling and growling, the fat boy tugged with the ropes
until he had taken a secure hitch about each of the three packages.
They made him tie the three before they would allow him to eat the
biscuit and cold bacon that he had got out.

While Stacy was munching his cold lunch the others were lashing the
packs to the lazy ponies and preparing to start again, every one being
anxious to reach the mountains before night fell. But the fat boy was
surly as well as sleepy. He felt aggrieved. That his companions
should sit down to a meal, leaving him asleep on his pony, filled Stacy
with resentment and a deep-rooted determination to be even with them.
He was already planning how he could repay his companions in their
own coin.

"Better not try it," suggested Tad carelessly as he passed the fat boy
on his way to get his pony.

"Try what?"

"To get even," answered Tad laughingly.

"How do you know that I was thinking of such a thing?"

"Perhaps I read your mind."

"Humph! You better learn to read your own before you go prying into mine.
I'll show you what I'm going to do."

"Cinch up," interrupted the voice of Professor Zepplin. "We have no
time to waste."

Still grumbling, Stacy climbed into the saddle. He promptly fell off,
having forgotten to cinch the saddle girth. Now the pony woke up and
began to kick as the saddle slipped under its belly. Stacy moved more
quickly than he had at any other time during the day. Over and over
he rolled in a cloud of dust in his efforts to get out of the danger
zone, while the pony kicked and squealed, the boys shouting with
laughter.

"Whoa!" roared the fat boy, sitting up after he had reached a place
where he considered it safe to do so. "Whoa! Catch him, somebody."

"Catch him yourself," retorted Ned.

Tad's rope wriggled through the air. It caught one of the flying hind
feet of the pony. Then the little animal plowed the dirt with its nose,
whil