"We are near enough now. Our troubles have begun already. Herd stampeded. Ponies broke their legs and had to be shot. Nobody knows what else will break loose before we get a hundred miles further on."
"I am anxious to see the place," commented Tad.
"You won't be after you've been there. I worked on a cow herd near the place two years ago."
"Yes?"
"Well, I got out after I'd been pitched off my pony and got a broken leg. That was only one of the things that happened to me, but it was enough. I got out. And here I am running my head right into trouble again. Say, kid!"
"Yes."
"You'd better ask the Herr Professor to let you carry a gun. You'll need it."
"What for—to lay ghosts with?" laughed the boy.
"Well, mebby something of that sort."
"Don't need it. I guess my fists will lay out any kind of a ghost that I run against. If they won't, no gun will do any good. I don't believe in a boy's carrying a pistol in his pocket. It will get him into more trouble than it will get him out of."