"That pony was frightened at something. What was it?" demanded the captain of Cad Morgan.
"I'm blest if I know, Captain. There wasn't anything that I saw."
"Take a scout around through the brush, you and Polly. There may be some one taking a parallel trail."
"Yes, there may be some German raiders hiding out there in the bush, laying for us. We ought to have some bombs. They would clean those fellows out in short order," declared Stacy.
The two men trotted from the line and disappeared among the trees, while the fat boy got back in his saddle, somewhat more sad, but no wiser than before. But he was thinking a great deal.
"He must have got scared at some of my imitations," decided the lad.
"I don't blame him."
"But which one was it? I'll see if I can do them again."
Letting his horse drop back a few rods behind the others, Chunky went over his list of accomplishments in the imitation line, trying each one cautiously, keeping a watchful eye on the ears of the pony.
All at once the eyes of the fat boy lighted up. Something struck him as funny. He laughed aloud.
"Chunky's got them again," chuckled Ned Rector.