Tad picked out a spotted roan for Stacy Brown, to which he gave the appropriate name of "Painted-squaw". Bad-eye, was considered an appropriate name for Ned Rector's broncho, while Walter drew a dapple gray which he decided to call Buster.
After choosing a well broken animal for the Professor, and picking out a suitable pack horse, the boys announced that they were ready for the start. An hour or so was spent in getting provisions enough to last them for a few days, all of which, together with their camp equipment, was strapped to the backs of the ponies.
It was now three o'clock in the afternoon. Ahead of them was a thirty mile journey over an unknown trail.
"I think we had better have a guide to take us out to the foothills until we shall have found our permanent guide," said the Professor.
"No, please don't," urged Tad.
"We are plainsmen enough now to be able to find our own way," added
Ned. "It's a clear trail. We can see the Rosebud Range from here.
That's it over there, isn't it, Mr. Simms?"
"Yes," replied the banker. "All you will have to do will be to get your direction by your compass before you start, and hold to it. You will not be able to see the mountains all the time, as the country is rolling and there are numerous buttes between here and there."
"Any Indians?" asked Stacy apprehensively.
"You may see some, but they will not bother you," laughed the banker. "I shall hope to have you all spend next Sunday with us at my ranch; then we can discuss our plans for your joining my outfit."
"How far is it from where we are bound?" asked the Professor.