The Pony Rider Boys in Alaska Part 15

"Perhaps you may be able to find it. I can't," answered Tad.

"We'll all look," cried Ned.

Tad nodded, and while they were scanning the ground he walked about the outskirts of the camp with his glances on the ground. There was not a footprint, not a thing to indicate that any person outside of themselves had been near the camp. Tad was looking in particular for the strings with which the stuff had been tied to the rope. Not finding these he was certain that some human being had been in the camp.

"We shall have to make the best of it and let it go at that," he said, returning to his companions. "Shall we go to sleep again?"

"Sleep!" shouted Ned.

Stacy popped his head out to see what the shout was about. He ducked back again upon encountering Rector's angry gaze.

"If it isn't Stacy Brown raising a row it's Tad Butler, and if it isn't Tad it's a midnight robber."

"Or else Ned Rector himself," added the Professor. "If you young gentlemen will excuse me I think I shall put on some clothes. We might as well have our breakfast and get an early start, since we are all awake."

"I was going to suggest that," replied Tad. "I'll go rub down the ponies while the rest of you get the breakfast."

"Shall we dress before or after?" questioned Walter.

"Before, of course," returned the Professor.

Breakfast was not a very merry meal that morning. Tad was chagrined to think a person could get into their camp and steal a ham without his having heard the intruder. Either he had slept more soundly than usual, or else their late visitor had been unusually stealthy.

"I'll tell you what I think," spoke up Rector after a period of silence.

"Out with it," answered the Professor.

"I'll wager that some of these prospectors have ducked in here and taken our stuff. There must be plenty of them in the mountains hereabouts."

Tad shook his head.

"I don't think so. I have an idea."

"What is your idea?" questioned Professor Zepplin.

"Are there Indians up here?" questioned Tad.

"Many of them."

"It was an Indian who did this job. No white man could get away with it so skilfully. If it was, as I suspect, we might as well give it up,"

concluded Butler.

"Oh, I kissed that ham good-by a long time ago," piped Stacy solemnly.

"I don't agree with any of you," said Ned. "I think the ham, unable to endure Chunky's singing, took wings and flew away. Either that or it was afraid he would kiss it again. He said he had kissed it good-by."

"You are wrong," declared Walter. "If Stacy had got that close to the ham he would have eaten it."

"You're right," agreed the Professor with an emphatic nod.

"I've got a bone to pick with you, too, Walt Perkins," warned Stacy.

"A ham-bone?" twinkled Tad.

"No, a drumstick."

"The probability is that we shall never know any more about the affair than we do now," decided the Professor. "Break camp as soon as we have finished breakfast and we will get under way. Have you looked to see which way the trail leads from this point, Tad?"

"Yes, sir. That way," replied Tad, pointing.

"Northwest?"

"Yes, sir."

Camp was broken in short order and within an hour they were on their way. Though the country was very rough and rugged and the going awful, they found the trail narrow and perilous only in spots. Generally they found it perfectly safe. That night they camped in a pa.s.s through which flowed a rushing glacial stream. Tall cottonwoods lined the stream and giant arborvitae was thick and almost impa.s.sable a short distance back from the stream. The Professor explained that this arborvitae was ordinarily found about glaciers, and in cool, dim fiords.

Determined not to be robbed of their provisions again, Tad led a string through the loops made in tying the meats to the provision line. He carried one end of the string into his tent and when he turned in he tied the end to his wrist.

Long after midnight he felt a jolt at his wrist that brought him to his feet in an instant. Another jolt followed.

The boy slipped the twine from his wrist and hurried out. The night was not so dark but that he could make out objects distinctly. There was nothing of an alarming nature in sight. He examined the provisions. None had been tampered with.

Considerably mystified, Tad returned to his tent, after rearranging his burglar alarm, and lay down. He had just dozed off when there came another tug more violent than the others.

"Hang it! Something is at those provisions," he muttered.

Tad once more slipped out. This time he remained out for a long time. He sat down behind the tent where he waited and watched. Nothing of a disturbing nature occurred. He could not understand it.

"There must be ghosts around here," he muttered. "If there are, I reckon I'll catch them before the night is over."

He grew weary of waiting for the "ghosts," after a time, and returning to the tent went to bed. Three times after that was the boy dragged out by a violent tug at the rope, and three times did he return without having discovered the cause.

"I think I begin to smell a mouse," thought Tad Butler.

He lay down. Again came the tugs at the string. But Tad apparently gave no heed to them. After a time he began snoring, but stopped suddenly, pinching himself to keep awake. A few moments later he got up quietly and went out. This time he ran the fingers of one hand along the provision line. The fingers stopped suddenly as they came in contact with a second string the size of the one he had used for a burglar alarm and evidently from the same ball of twine.

"I thought so," chuckled the boy. "More of Chunky Brown's tricks. I reckon I'll teach him a lesson and give him a surprise at the same time.

Let's see. Yes, I have it now."

Tad found a quarter inch rope. He made a slip noose at one end, working the honda or knot back and forth until it slipped easily. In reality it was a la.s.so. He tucked the loop under the rear of the tent, then crawled cautiously in after it. Great caution was necessary in order not to disturb the other occupants of the tent, though the boys were sleeping soundly, Stacy snoring thunderously. The fat boy's feet protruded from under his blanket. Tad found them after a little careful groping. He wished to make certain that he had the right feet. Satisfying himself on this point he slipped the noose over the feet and wriggled out.

Tad then drew the rope carefully about a slender tree, taking care that there might be no strain on the other end about the fat boy's feet.

Using the tree as a leverage Butler gave the rope a quick jerk. A slight commotion in the tent followed.

He now gave the rope a mighty tug. A wild yell from the interior of the tent told that his effort had been successful. The freckle-faced boy now began pulling with all his might, hand over hand. Stacy Brown's yells were loud and frightful. To his howls were added those of another voice.

Stacy was sliding out from under the rear of the tent feet first, being dragged along on his back as Butler hauled in on the rope.

But Stacy was not alone. Instead of one boy there were two. One of Chunky's feet and one of Ned Rector's was fast in the loop. Tad had made a mistake and selected a foot from each of the two boys.