The Pony Rider Boys in Montana Part 16

This time they heard the pony plunge cras.h.i.+ng to the ground. His rapid course had come to a sudden end.

The pursuers set up a yell of triumph.

"He's down! He's down! We've got him!"

"Give him another one!"

To make sure that their man should not escape they fired their weapons again.

The pursuers dashed up with drawn revolvers, ready to shoot at the least sign of resistance.

Bluff leaped from his pony and struck a match.

Tad's mount lay dying in the brush.

"There's no one here," said Bluff, his face working nervously.

Of Tad Butler there was no sign. He had disappeared utterly.

CHAPTER X

THE RIDE FOB HELP

"There's Pink-eye!" exclaimed Ned Rector.

"Is it possible?" answered the Professor. "Then something has happened to Tad."

"Mebby--mebby the bear's got him," suggested Stacy Brown, his face blanching.

All through the night the little party had sat up anxiously awaiting the return of their companion, who had set out after the bear. The tent had been ruined, but they found that the rifles had not been harmed at all, having been stacked in front of the small tents.

Early in the morning the three boys and Professor Zepplin had followed Tad's trail for some distance into the foothills, but feared to penetrate too far for fear of getting lost. The Professor reasoned that it would be much better to return to camp and give Tad a chance to find his way in in case he himself should prove to have been lost.

This the boys had done, but they were impatient to be doing something more active. Ned Rector was fairly fuming, because their guardian would not permit him to set out alone in search of the missing boy.

"No," the Professor had said; "if I did that with all of you, we should have the whole party scattered over the mountains and it is doubtful if we should all get together again before snow flies."

Yet when Tad's pony came trotting back to camp, the matter took on a more serious aspect. Something must be done and at once.

"Now, will you let me go, Professor?" begged Ned.

"Not in those mountains alone, if that is what you mean."

"Then what can we do?"

"If the guide were only here!" interjected Walter. "Do you suppose I could find him?"

"It will be useless to try, my boy. About the only course we can follow now, is that leading back to Forsythe, and I am not sure that we shouldn't be lost doing that."

"Then we don't know it," retorted Ned. "I know the trail. I could go back over it with my eyes shut. Why would that not be the idea, Professor? Why not let me ride back to Forsythe? Mr. Simms would give us some one who knew the foothills and mountains and I could bring him back."

"Let me see, how far is it?" mused the Professor.

"Thirty miles, he said."

"Why, it would take you couple of days to make that and back."

"You try me and see. I can get a fresh pony to come back with, and if I do not return with the guide, what difference does it make?

He's the one you want. But never fear, I'll be back with him between now and morning if I have no bad luck," urged the lad earnestly.

"I am half inclined to agree to your plan. If I were sure that you knew the way----"

"It is not possible to get lost. We have the compa.s.ses and we know the direction in which Forsythe lies. All we have to do is to travel in an opposite direction from that by which we came."

"Supposing we all go!" suggested Walter.

"Wouldn't do at all," answered the Professor, with an emphatic shake of the head. "Some one must remain here in case Tad returns. That boy will get back somehow. I feel sure of that. He is resourceful and strong. And besides, he has my revolver. No; more than one on the trip would be apt to delay rather than to help. Master Ned, you may go." "Good!" shouted the lad. Bad-eye looked up almost resentfully as the boy approached him on the run, threw on the saddle and cinched the girths.

The hits were slipped into the animal's mouth, and, placing his left foot in the stirrup, Ned threw himself into the saddle.

"I'm ready now," he said, his eyes sparkling with antic.i.p.ation, as he rode up to the little group.

"I'll show you that I'm not a tenderfoot even if I am from Missouri," he laughed.

"Be careful," warned Professor Zepplin.

"Don't worry about me, and, Chunky, you look out for bears. If Tad should come in within the next half hour or so, you can fire off your rifles to let me know. Then I'll turn about and come back. Good-bye, all."

"Good-bye and good luck," they shouted.

Giving a gentle pressure to the spurs, Ned Rector started off on his long ride at a brisk gallop. Within a short time the lad had the satisfaction of finding that he was emerging from the foothills. He then pulled up the pony and consulted his compa.s.s. "Five points north of east. The Professor said that should take me back. Besides I remember that we came this way yesterday. I'm going to save some time by fording that fork without going the roundabout way we took before."

Ned galloped on again. Had it not been for his anxiety over Tad, he would have enjoyed his ride to the fullest. The morning was glorious; the sun had not yet risen high enough to make the heat uncomfortable; birds were singing and in spots where the sun had not yet penetrated a heavy dew was glistening on foliage and gra.s.s.

Ned drew a long breath, drinking in the delicious air.

"This is real," he said. "Nothing artificial about this. I wish I might stay here always."

The lad did not think of the deep snows and biting cold of the northern winters there, winters so severe that hundreds of head of sheep and cattle frequently perished from the killing weather. He saw nature only in her most peaceful mood.

He had ridden on for something more than two hours, when he came to the East Fork, where they had had such an exciting experience two nights before. After a few moments' riding along the bank he discovered the spot where they had made their camp on the opposite side.

"I'm going to take a chance and ford right here," he decided. "No, I guess my mission is too important to take the risk. If I should get caught in there I should at least be delayed. There's somebody else who must be considered. That's Tad."

Half a mile above, the lad found a place that he felt safe in trying. Luckily he got across without mishap. He had found a rocky bar without being aware of it, and the water while swift was shallow enough so that by slipping his feet from the stirrups and holding them up, he was able to ford the stream without even getting them damp.