"Don't wait for the fire. We must go to his assistance!" answered Tad, snatching up his rifle and making a bolt for his pony. "Come on, boys, we've got something to do this time."
"Stop!" commanded the professor.
"What, sit here while a band of bandits are perhaps murdering Lieutenant Withem? I can't do that. You stay here, Professor. We will take care of ourselves. Don't worry about us. Chunky, you'd better stay here with the professor. You haven't got sand enough to—-"
"What, me stay here?" shouted the fat boy, starting for his own mount.
"I guess you don't know what kind of a man I am. Come on, fellows.
Whoop!"
Stacy leaped into his saddle. Ned Rector and Walter Perkins already had taken to their saddles. The professor saw that it was useless to try to stop the boys. He groaned aloud. But Professor Zepplin was very active for his years. Ere the enthusiastic Pony Riders had started to gallop away the professor had made a flying leap into his saddle and a few seconds later was pounding down the canyon, along the West Fork, in the wake of the racing Pony Rider Boys.
"There they are!" cried Tad, as bursting out on the plain they saw vicious flashes of light, accompanied by the crashing of guns.
CHAPTER IX
SHOWING GOOD GENERALSHIP
Rifles had been jerked from saddle boots as the boys swung to the left, sweeping down over the plain. Tad assumed the leadership of the party, as he usually did in emergencies.
"All hold your fire until I give the word. Keep your heads. Don't get excited!" wanted the lad.