joy shoes?" demanded the
fat boy.

"I supposed you intended to wear them when sitting by the fireside."

"Like the squaw, you've got another guess coming. I'm going to send
those moccasins to my aunt in Chillicothe."

This was an unusual thing to do. Stacy usually thought of himself, but
seldom of others. Tad called to the other boys to tell them the news.
They examined the moccasins gravely.

At this juncture the Professor beckoned to the boys to come into the
store, which they did after hastily staking down their stock.

"This gentleman says he thinks he can get us a guide," announced the
Professor. "I tell him we must have a reliable one, for we know
absolutely nothing about the country from here on."

"Black or white?" questioned Stacy.

"Oh, black, of course. There are no white guides up here. I think this
one was out with a government surveying party once," said the
store-keeper.

"He should do very well, then," nodded the Professor, well pleased.

"What's good enough for our Uncle Sam surely should be good enough for
us," agreed Ned Rector. "What do you say, Chunky?"

"I decline to commit myself. I've been taken in on guides before this.
Trot out your guide and, after I've tried him out, I'll tell you what I
think of him. In buying guides I follow the same tactics that Tad Butler
does in purchasing horses."

"Oh, you do, eh?" jeered Ned.

"Always."

"Then be sure you examine this fellow's legs to make certain that they
are sound. Feel his ankles that there is neither spavin nor ringbone,
then open his mouth and look at his teeth to be sure that he isn't lying
to you," advised Tad dryly.

"After which, one Stacy Brown will be reduced to the condition that he
deserves," laughed Ned.

"What condition?" demanded the fat boy.

"Use your imagination."

"It isn't working to-day. I'm too hungry."

"Plenty of crackers and cheese and other things here," said Tad. "I am
going to have some. Isn't that 'pop' up there, sir?" he asked the
proprietor.

"Yes; have some?"

"What flavors have you?"

"Sarsaparilla and ginger ale."

"Give me both," interjected Stacy. "I'll have a pound of that cheese and
about a peck of crackers. Got anything else?"

"Ginger snaps?"

"Hooray! Just like being in Chillicothe, isn't it?" Stacy filched a hard
cracker and slipped it into the mouth of a papoose on its mother's back.

The squaw did not observe the action, but one of her sister squaws
muttered something, w