A low growl from Dippy Orell was the only reply to the remark.  Now and then a man would throw himself down hoping to get a brief nap, but a few moments later he would be up stamping and scratching and growling deeply, threatening vengeance on the boy who had played the trick on them.

Next morning, Stacy Brown, for reasons best known to himself, got up ahead of the others of his party.  Stacy took his time in dressing, then strolled out.

“Hullo, I guess the crowd is sleeping late this morning,” he muttered.  Then he halted.  His eyes rested on the ’possum sack that he had left in the tent of the Rangers the night before.  A broad grin spread over his face.

“I guess they won’t be playing monkeyshines on Stacy Brown right away.  I wonder if they got bitten much?  I’m all swelled up where the insects made a meal on my skin.  Hullo!  Hi, fellows!”

Tad Butler and Ned Rector appeared at the door of their tent almost at once.

“Can’t you let a fellow sleep?” demanded Ned.  “What’s the row about?  Got a ’possum for breakfast?”

“No, but I’ve got something else for you.”

“What’s that?” questioned Butler.

“A surprise.”

“What kind of a surprise?”

“Just a surprise surprise, that’s all.  What do you think?”

“Too early to think.  I’m going back to bed,” growled Rector.  “And don’t you dare wake me up again.”

Tad stepped out.

“The crowd has given us the slip,” announced Stacy.

“What—–­why they’ve gone!” exclaimed Tad.

“Yes, they’ve gone.  Gone where there aren’t any Pony Rider Boys to make life miserable for them.”

Tad was mystified.  The Ranger company had disappeared utterly.  They had slipped away silently and mysteriously.  Even the chuck wagon had disappeared.

“Why, what can it mean?” marveled Tad Butter.

“You may search me.  I don’t know.”

“Hey, Ned!”

“Well, what is it?” growled Rector appearing at the tent opening again.

“They’ve gone and left us and without even saying good-bye,” called Tad.  “Shake out the others.”

The professor and Walter, having been awakened by the talking, now appeared.  They were quickly informed that the Rangers had left, at which they wondered not a little.

“I guess they got tired of our company.  I’m going to start breakfast,” declared Butler.

“This is most remarkable,” bristled the professor.  “I should have thought they would have left some word.”

“How about that ’possum, Chunky?” jeered Rector.

“You better ask the Rangers.  They’ll tell you about that,” answered the fat boy with a grin.  “There’s the sack in which I fetched the animals back to camp.”

“What, did you catch any?” demanded the professor.

“Oh, I got some game, all right.  I’m the champion hunter, I am.  Say, I wish I could cook like you,” said Chunky gazing admiringly at Tad, who was confidently making some biscuit for breakfast.  “I never could cook unless I had everything all down in writing before me.  How do you do it?”