The Pony Rider Boys in New Mexico Part 33

"What?"

Stacy nodded wisely.

"Santa Claus ought to have shot them."

"Why, you cold-blooded savage!" scoffed Ned. "The idea!"

"You'll see. I'd have done it, myself, if I'd had my gun," declared Stacy bravely.

"Good thing for you that your gun was in camp, instead of in your holster."

"Yes; I'd have lost the gun when the pony went down. Poor pony! Say, Walt," he murmured, leaning over toward his companion.

"Well, out with it!"

"This pony of Santa Claus's can jump further than a kangaroo."

"Ever see a kangaroo jump?" sneered Ned.

"No; but I've seen you try to. I'll show you, Walt, when we get a chance to go out and have a contest."

"That would be good sport, wouldn't it, Ned?"

"What?"

"A jumping contest!"

"If we didn't break our necks."

"Can't break a Pony Rider Boy's neck. They're too tough," laughed Walter, to which sentiment, Stacy Brown agreed with a series of emphatic nods.

"Say, Tad," called Walter, "what do you say to our jumping our ponies some time to-day?"

Tad grinned appreciatively.

"If the stock isn't too tired when we make camp, I think it would be great fun. We haven't had any real jumping contests in a long time."

"Wish we had our stallions here, Tad."

"They're better off at home, Chunky. Altogether too valuable horses for this kind of work. I'll speak to the guide."

"Well, what is it, young man?" smiled Kris Kringle.

"If you can find a level place for our camp we want to have a contest this afternoon. Professor, will you join us?"

"What kind of a contest?"

"Jumping."

"No, thank you."

"We will camp in the foothills of the Black range. You will find plenty of level ground there for your purpose," said the guide.

In order that they might have more time for their games, an early halt was called. The first work was to pitch the camp, the ponies being allowed to graze and rest in the meantime, after which the lads started out on a broad, open plain for their sport.

Their shouts of merriment drifted back to the camp where Kris Kringle and Professor Zepplin were setting things to rights and preparing an early supper, the sun still being some hours high.

"That's a great bunch of boys, Professor."

"Great for getting into difficulties."

"And for getting out of them."

"I'll put them against any other four lads in the world for hunting out trouble," laughed the Professor.

The result of the afternoon's sport was a total of several spills and numerous black and blue spots on the bodies of the Pony Rider Boys.

Stacy Brown on Kris Kringle's pony, carried off the honors, having taken a higher jump than did any of his companions. Then Stacy did it again, after the others had tried--and failed to equal the record.

The games being finished, Tad and Walter rode off to get a closer view of some peculiar rock formations that they had discovered in the high distance, while Ned and Chunky started slowly for the camp.

The table had been set out in front of the tents when the fat boy and his companion came in sight of the camp.

"Whew! but I'm hungry!" announced Stacy Brown.

"But you didn't think of it until you saw the table set, did you?"

"It wasn't the table, it was the shaking up I got back there that made me feel full of emptiness."

"Huh!"

"I've got an idea, Ned."

"For goodness' sake, keep it to yourself, then. When you have an idea it spells trouble for everybody else around you."

"Bet you I can."

"Can what?" snorted Ned.

"Bet you I can jump the dinner table and you can't."

"Bet you can't."

"Bet I can, and without even knocking a fly off the milk pitcher."

"Go on, you! You try it first, and, if you don't make it, you lose. I don't have to try it if I don't want to," agreed Ned, with rare prudence.

Chunky was fairly hugging himself with glee, but he took good care that Ned Rector did not observe his satisfaction.

"If you don't you're a tenderfoot," taunted Stacy.