No one gave any heed to Chunky’s further interruption this time.

“The Grand Canyon of the Colorado?” repeated Tad, his eyes sparkling.  “Isn’t that fine?  Do you know, I have always wanted to go there, but I hardly thought we should get that far away from home again.  But what plans has Mr. Perkins made?”

“Well, he has been writing to arrange for guides and so forth.  He knows a good man at Flagstaff with whom Mr. Perkins hunted a few years ago.  What did he say the name was, Walt?”

“Nance.  Jim Nance, one of the best men in that part of the country.  Everybody knows Jim Nance.”

“I don’t,” declared Chunky, suddenly coming to life again.

“There are a lot of other things you don’t know,” retorted Ned Rector witheringly.

“If there are you can’t teach them to me,” returned Stacy promptly.

“As I was saying when that interrupted me, Mr. Perkins wrote to this man, Nance, and engaged him for June first, to remain with us as long as we require his services.”

“Does Mr. Perkins think we had better take our ponies with us?”

“No.”

“Then we shall have to buy others.  I hardly think I can afford that outlay,” said Tad, with a shake of the head.

“That is all arranged, Tad,” interrupted Walter.  “Father has directed Mr. Nance to get five good horses or ponies.”

“Then Professor Zepplin is to accompany us?”

“Yes.”

“Poor Professor!  His troubles certainly are not over yet,” laughed Tad.  “We must try not to annoy him so much this trip.  We are older now and ought to use better judgment.”

“That’s what I’ve been telling Ned,” spoke up Stacy.   “He’s old enough
to-----”

“To—–­what?” demanded Ned.

Chunky quailed under the threatening gaze of Ned Rector.  He mumbled some unintelligible words, settled back in his chair and made himself as inconspicuous as possible.

“Pooh!  Professor Zepplin enjoys our pranks as much as do we ourselves.  He just makes believe that he doesn’t.  He’s a boy himself.”

“But an overgrown one,” muttered Stacy under his breath.

“Where do we meet the Professor?” asked Tad.

“How about it, Walt?” asked Ned, turning to young Perkins.

“I don’t think father mentioned that.”

“We shall probably pick him up on the way out,” nodded Tad.

“Well, what do you think of it?” demanded Ned.

“Fine, fine!”

“You don’t seem very enthusiastic about it.”

“Don’t I?  Well, I am.  Has Mr. Perkins decided when we are to start?”

“Yes, in about two weeks.”

“I don’t know.  I am afraid that is too soon for me.  I don’t even know that I shall be able to go,” said Tad Butler.

“Why not?”

“Well, we may not be able to afford it.”

“Pshaw!  Your mother just said you might go, or words to that effect.  Of course you’ll go.  If you didn’t, I wouldn’t go, and my father would be disappointed.  He knows what these trips have done for me.  Remember what a tender plant I was when we went out in the Rockies that time?”