CHAPTER III
A JOYFUL REUNION
"Howdy, fellows," greeted Tad laughingly as he leaped from his pony,followed by Walter who, less gracefully, fell off. "Didn't look forme just yet, did you?"
Professor Zepplin had hurried forward; his face was wreathed insmiles as he grasped the hand of the Pony Rider Boy.
"This is Mr. Vaughn, our guide," announced the Professor.
"I am very glad to know you, sir," answered Tad, smiling up into thestrong face of Cale Vaughn, winning that gentleman's regard on theinstant.
"And, ahem! This is Mr. Stacy Brown, the handy man," announcedChunky, pushing his way to the front and extending a hand to Tad.
"Hello, Chunky. Not growing thin, are you?"
"Be kind enough not to call attention to my superfluities. I amsomewhat sensitive, you know."
"I beg your pardon," answered Tad gravely.
Just then Ned Rector came running in, puffing and blowing.
"Is that the way you treat me after I have run a mile more or less towelcome you?" demanded Ned, as Tad gripped him in a bear-likeembrace.
"My, you're wet!" laughed Tad, holding Rector off to look at him.
"Yes, he's been in bathing with his clothes on," observed the fat boysolemnly. "Something ought to be done to break him of such slovenlyhabits. But how do you happen to be here, if I may be so bold as toinquire?"
"Don't you know?" questioned Tad, glancing at the smiling facesaround him.
Stacy shook his head.
"Come over and sit down, and I'll tell you about it. By the way,have you folks anything to eat? I'm starving."
"You're not getting Chunky's disease, are you?" sneered Ned, tryingto appear greatly displeased, but not making much of a success ofthe attempt.
"I am afraid I am, boys. Well, Mr. and Mrs. Perkins fixed it up tohave Mother go with them to the mountains. You see, Mrs. Perkins israther delicate and Mr. Perkins wanted her to go to the mountains,where he had taken a cottage for the summer. Of course he couldn'tbe with her all the time, having to attend to his business at home,so he asked Mother to go along for company. In fact, I guess heinsisted. Mother agreed. I think she did so that I might join youboys. I came with them as far as Utica, N.Y. You see, they went tothe Adirondacks. I had to come on after they had made those plans.I think Mr. Perkins fixed it up on purpose, so we would all besatisfied. I knew Mother would be in good hands and I knew she wouldfeel better about it if I came on and joined you."
"But how did you find us?" urged Rector.
"Why, they told me, at the village, that you were camping out here.They gave me directions so I couldn't miss you."
"Hm-m-m!" mused the fat boy, screwing up his features and regardingTad narrowly. "How did you know we were in this part of the country?"
"Everybody in New England knows that," laughed Tad.
"Yes, they know Chunky is here," agreed Ned.
"It strikes me that there is a gentleman of color in the woodpile,"observed Stacy. "In fact, I might say there are several of themhidden in the stove wood."
"Yes, I reckon you're right. And you didn't know a thing about it?"chuckled Butler.
Stacy shook his head.
"But we may have had our suspicions--our suspicions, you understand?"said the fat boy. "Still, there are several things that needexplanation."
"Professor, you knew about this all the time, didn't you?" demandedNed.
The Professor stroked his beard.
"I see no harm in saying that I did."
"He was in the conspiracy, boys, but I didn't know a thing about ituntil the day before I left Chillicothe," said Tad.
"Then Professor Zepplin knew about it before we left home, eh?"questioned Stacy.
"I guess he did," admitted Walter.
Stacy fixed a stern gaze on the smiling Walter Perkins.
"You in this thing, too, Walt?" he demanded.
"I plead guilty," answered Perkins, flushing violently.
"Well, I call it a shame to deceive innocent boys like that. But,sir," added Chunky, turning pompously to Tad Butler, "I welcome youin the name of the Pony Rider Boys. We will now kill the fattedcalf."
"In other words, Stacy Brown," interjected Rector. "It's a good thingyou are here, Tad. There is no holding Chunky. Why, you have noidea how he is acting. Am I right, Professor?"
"I will admit that Stacy is at times inclined to be rude," noddedProfessor Zepplin.
"Everyone is against me," growled Stacy. "Everything I do is thewrong thing and nothing that I do is right. You fellows don't stopto think what tame affairs these trips would be without somebody topoke fun at. I am the mark for everyone. The trouble with me isthat I am not valued at my true worth. Mr. Vaughn, have you learnedto know me well enough to realize how valuable I am to this company?"
"I'll confess that I should be lonesome without you," agreed theguide with a nod.
"There, I'm glad someone in this outfit has the sense to recognize agood thing when he sees it. How about a fire for cooking?"
"I will build the fire," cried Tad, proceeding at once to heap thesticks into a little pyramid under the crane that Cale had arranged.Butler eyed the contrivance critically. "It is plain to be seen thatsomeone has been camping before. That is an excellent idea."
Tad soon had a blazing fire going. In the meantime, Stacy hadhastened to fill the kettle, while Vaughn got out the edibles, theothers busying themselves in setting the table, which in thisinstance was a blanket stretched over four stakes driven into theground, with saplings for stringers, and over which the blanketwas stretched taut.
None of these arrangements escaped the keen eyes of Tad Butler. Soonthe odor of boiling coffee and frying bacon was in the air, andthough the campers had had their breakfast only an hour or so before,each began to sniff the air appreciatively.
"Smells good, doesn't it?" grinned Stacy. "Sort of gives me anappetite, too."
"I don't think you need an odor to give you an appetite, unless youhave changed a great deal since I saw you last," answered Tad Butler.
All were soon gathered about the table, and though the forenoon wasnot yet half ended, each seemed to possess a midday appetite. Tadtold them about the trip from Chillicothe, which had been uneventful,then made them tell him all about their experiences since they lefthome. Cale Vaughn found so much amusement in the conversation thatevery little while he forgot to eat. Stacy always reminded him thathe wasn't doing his duty by the food.
"Do we move today?" asked Tad.
"We are waiting for the Indian," said the guide.
"The who?" wondered Tad.
"Oh, a fellow with two handles to his name, but without any name tonail them to," answered Stacy.
"He means Charlie John," explained Ned.
"Charlie John? That _is_ a funny name," smiled Butler.
"It might be handy, too. In case you woke up and wanted to saysomething to him in a hurry, it wouldn't make any difference whetheryou called him John Charlie or Charlie John or just plain Charlie orjust plain John," said Chunky. "Handy kind of name, isn't it?"
Tad agreed that it was, especially for lazy folks, to which Ned andWalter also agreed most heartily.
"When is this man with the double-back-action name expected?" askedTad.
"Oh, today sometime," replied Vaughn. "Today with Charlie means anytime between midnight last night and midnight tonight, so we might aswell make up our minds to remain here until tomorrow. We shall getan early start in the morning and make a good bit of a hike tomorrow,and we'll be in the woods some time tomorrow."
"Over yonder?" asked Tad, nodding toward the dark blue ridge on thehorizon. "How far it it?"
"About twenty miles as the crow flies."
"Or the hawk flops," added the fat boy, who, by this time, under theinfluence of the hot sun and the hotter victuals, was perspiringfreely.
Tad regarded Stacy quizzically.
"Chunky, you look like a steamed pudding," he laughed.
"
Yes, an underdone one," suggested Ned.
"That may be," agreed Stacy solemnly. "But I can keep on baking tillI am done, while you are so tough on the outside that the inside ofyou never would get done."
"Ned, I guess that one reached the spot," chuckled Walter.
"Never touched me," grinned Rector.
"There! What did I tell you?" demanded Stacy triumphantly. "Hisoutside shell is so thick that you couldn't break through it with amall."
"Did Father send any word to me?" asked Walter, for the time beingputting an end to the argument.
"Oh, yes, I forgot. I have a letter for you in my pocket," repliedTad, flushing. "How careless of me."
"Had I done that you fellows wouldn't have stopped talking about itfor a month," complained Stacy.
Walter Perkins was too deeply engrossed in his letter to give heed,but after he had read it through he read the letter aloud to hiscompanions.
"You haven't any letters for me secreted about your person, have you,Tad?" questioned Chunky humbly.
"No; that is the only letter I have, or had," answered Tad.
"Chunky, perhaps you will get yours in the next mail," suggested Ned.
"Yes; I expect that it will come by airplane route, but I hope itisn't a package. It might hit someone when it fell."
"You wouldn't object were it a package of food, would you?"questioned Tad teasingly.
"Well, that might make a difference," agreed Stacy. "In that eventperhaps I could stand having it land on my head."
Tad, during the afternoon, got better acquainted with Cale Vaughn.He found the guide to be a well-read and intelligent man, differentfrom the type of guide that the Pony Rider Boys had known on theirprevious summer outings in the saddle. Cale was less taciturn, too,and seemed to take the keenest possible delight in the jokes andpranks of the boys that he was to guide through the Maine wilderness.
Vaughn was not much of a horseman, and he had brought a pony along,not because he expected to ride much, but because he needed somethingto carry his pack. When Cale was looking over Tad's pony, "SilverFace," the boy discovered that the man knew little about horses,though Tad was too polite to mention the fact.
That evening they gathered about the campfire with all hands relatingexperiences. Stacy Brown recounted, for Cale's benefit, how he hadhunted lion in the Grand Canyon; how he had fought a battlesingle-handed and won. The fat boy went over the story three times,each time enlarging upon it, Cale observing him with a good-naturedsmile, but making no comment. He was forming his estimate of Stacy,though Brown was unaware of the fact.
It was late when they finally turned in, and still no Charlie Johnhad arrived. Cale sat up to wait for him, and the Indian came inwith his pack at five minutes before midnight.
"Where put um?" asked the half-breed.
"Over there," answered Cale carelessly, with a wave of the hand.
The Indian's pack weighed some seventy-five pounds. It looked like alaundry bag. The instant he flung the pack down there came a yell, aseries of wild howls that brought every member of the camp to hisfeet.
Groans and moans from under the Indian's pack attracted theirattention to that point. At the first yell, Cale sprang forwardand began pulling off the pack.
"You lummox!" he fumed, giving the Indian a menacing glance.