Stacy’s cheek was bleeding again.  He was holding his handkerchief to the wound and his face was a little paler than usual.

“Buck up!” commanded Ned.  “You’re not going to show the white feather, are you?”

“No, it’s a red feather I’m showing,” wailed the fat boy.

“Forward!” ordered Butler.  “Get up, Chunky!”

The party moved off, keeping close to the rocks, Tad now and then casting apprehensive glances up to their tops.  He was not wholly satisfied that they were out of range of the bullets.  The man who had been firing at them, too, was practically a dead shot.

“Now spread out,” commanded Tad after they bad reached the point where he previously had halted.  “Don’t shout, but when I wave my hand, ride fast for the hollow.  I’ll be all right; don’t worry about me.”

With that the lad galloped leisurely out on the plain, his back to the mountains.  It was a bold thing to do.  Deep down in his heart the Pony Rider Boy expected every second to bear a bullet scream over his head, providing he was fortunate enough not to stop the bullet with his body.  Not a shot greeted his bold act.

Tad rode on, finally disappearing in the “hog hollow.”  A few moments later he rode up the ridge, waving his hands for them to come on.  Professor Zepplin started out at once, followed by the others of his party, Stacy this time well up toward the front of the line.  For reasons of his own he did not care to drag behind.  If there was to be any shooting he wanted to be as far away from it as possible.

The trip was made at a fast gallop and without incident, the party reaching the hollow without having drawn a shot from the enemy.

“It is my opinion,” declared the professor, “that, whoever our enemy may be, he has discovered that he has made a mistake.”

Tad shook his head.

“I don’t think we would be safe in taking that for granted.  He did not see us, but he will be on hand before long.  I’m going back there before he does see us.  If he starts any more shooting you all lie low.”

“Where are you going?” demanded the professor.

“On a scouting trip.”

“I cannot consent to any such foolhardy business,” answered Professor Zepplin sternly.

“It is not foolhardy.  We’ve got to clear up this mystery.  Don’t you see, we shan’t dare go any farther—–­we simply cannot go into the mountains knowing there is some one there waiting to riddle us the first time he gets a clear sight at us?”

“But what do you propose to do?”

“I don’t know, beyond finding out what is up.”

“Yes, let him go,” urged Stacy.  “He’s looking for trouble.  I’m the only one who has had any experience thus far.  It’s time some one else made a mark of himself.”

“I was thinking of taking you with me,” laughed Tad.

“No, you don’t!  Not if I see you coming,” objected Stacy.