"I made a discovery---I discovered that we had been basely deserted."
"Well, that's only one thing. You said you had done two things,"
persisted Ned.
"Then I ate my breakfast. That's two things."
The boys groaned.
"He ate his breakfast. Most remarkable," scoffed Rector, imitating the
professor's voice and manner, whereat the professor himself grinned
broadly.
Tad, giving up expecting the others to do anything, was rapidly
gathering their equipment together. The tent came down. He divided
it into sections, placing the sections in piles preparatory to forming
them into bundles to be packed on the ponies.
"Have you the map, Professor?" he called.
"In my saddle bag."
"I want to study it a minute before we start. We don't know anything
about the trails here and we have no guide to direct us. We've got to
make our way the best we can."
"We can't get lost," chimed in Chunky.
"Why can't we get lost?" snapped Ned turning on the fat boy.
"Because we don't know where we are anyway."
"Horse sense," laughed Tad.
"Fat-boy drivel," jeered Ned.
"Come, come, young men. You are not making much headway."
Stacy dragged his pack by the rope, over to his pony, instead of
carrying the bundle as he should have done, Professor Zepplin observing
the boy with disapproving gaze.
"Is that the way you have been taught to pack your pony, sir?"
"No.
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