"I—I dunno; do you?"
"How should I know? If you will go to sleep an a bucking broncho, you must expect things to happen."
Stacy, by this time, had scrambled to his feet; after which, he began a careful inventory of himself to make sure that he was all there. He grinned sheepishly.
Satisfying himself on this point, Stacy shrugged his shoulders and walked over to his pony with a suggestion of a limp.
"Now that we have halted we might as well make camp for a few hours, get breakfast and take a nap," suggested the Professor.
The boys welcomed this proposition gratefully, for they were beginning to feel the effects of their long night ride, added to which, two of them had had a series of trying experiences before starting out.
In the meantime, Stacy Brown had been examining his pony with more than usual care.
Tad observed his action, and wondered at it. A moment later, the fat boy having moved away; Tad thought he would take a look at the animal. He was curious to know what Stacy had in mind.
"So that's it, is it?" muttered Tad.
He found the mark of a spur on the pony's withers. While it had not punctured the skin, the spur had raked the coat, showing that the rowel had been applied with considerable force.