The boys welcomed this proposition gratefully, for they were beginning to feel the effects of their long night ride, added to which, two of them had had a series of trying experiences before starting out.

In the meantime, Stacy Brown had been examining his pony with more than usual care.

Tad observed his action, and wondered at it.  A moment later, the fat boy having moved away; Tad thought he would take a look at the animal.  He was curious to know what Stacy had in mind.

“So that’s it, is it?” muttered Tad.

He found the mark of a spur on the pony’s withers.  While it had not punctured the skin, the spur had raked the coat, showing that the rowel had been applied with considerable force.

Tad, with a covert glance about, saw Ned Rector watching him.

“You’re the guilty one, eh?” he demanded, walking up to Ned.

“S-h-h-h,” cautioned Ned.  “He’ll be redheaded if he knows I am to blame for his coming a cropper.”

“Chunky’s not so slow as you might think.  But that wasn’t a nice thing to do.  It’s all right to play tricks, but I hope you won’t be so cruel as to use a spur on a dumb animal, the way you did, even if he is an ill-tempered broncho.  You might have broken Chunky’s neck, too.”

Ned’s face flushed.

“It was a mean trick, I’ll admit.  Didn’t strike me so at the time.  Shall I ask Chunky’s pardon?”

“Do as you think best.  I should, were I in your place.”

“Then, I will after breakfast.”

Ned got busy at once, assisting to cook the morning meal, while Juan led the ponies out to a patch of grass and staked them down.  While the Pony Rider cook was thus engaged, he felt a tug at his coat sleeve.

Turning sharply, Ned found Stacy at his side.  Stacy’s face was flushed and his eyes were snapping.

“What is it, Chunky?”

“Come over here, I want to talk with you.”

They stepped off a few paces out of hearing of the others, Tad smiling to himself as he observed Stacy’s act.

“Well, what’s the matter, Chunky?”

“I can lick you, Ned Rector!”

“Wha—­ what?”

“Said I could lick you.  Didn’t say I was going to, understand.  Just said I could—­”

“Like to see you try it.”

“All right; it’s a go.”

Ere Ned could recover from his surprise, Stacy Brown had launched himself upon his companion.  One of Stacy’s arms went about Ned’s neck, one foot kicked a leg from under Ned, and the two lads went down in the dust together.

It had happened in a twinkling.

“Here, here!  What’s going on over there?” shouted the Professor, starting on a run, while the other lads were laughing.

Chunky was sitting on the chest of his fallen adversary, Ned struggling desperately to throw the lad off.

“Cock-a-doodle-doo!” crowed Chunky, in imitation of a rooster, flapping his hands on his thighs, in great good humor with himself.