Chunky, about that time, pounced upon an object which proved to be a copper hatchet.
"Hurray for George Washington!" he shouted, brandishing the crude tool. "The man who never told—"
"We've heard that before," objected Ned. "Give us something new, Chunky, if you've got to talk."
The Professor came in, searching for other curios just as Stacy went out to examine his "little axe," as he was pleased to call it. He tried the edge of it on the ledge to find out if the stone would dull it, but it did not.
"I'll use that to cut nails and wire with when I get back home," decided the boy. "Guess I'll chop my name in the side of the mountain here." Stacy proceeded to do so, the others being too much engrossed in their explorations to know or care what he was about. He succeeded very well, both in making letters on the wall and in putting several nicks in the edge of his new-found hatchet.
He was thus engaged when all at once something struck the axe hurling it from his hand. At the same instant a rifle crashed off somewhere below and to the southeast of him.
"Ouch!" exclaimed the fat boy holding his hand. "Wonder who did that?" His mind had not coupled the shot with the blow on the hatchet.
Bang!
A bullet flattened itself close to his head, against the rock.
With a howl, the lad threw himself down on the ledge.