"That's a mean trick. I wouldn't play that on a horse," answered Stacy indignantly.
"But you did play it on a horse," spoke up Tad. "The horse went to sleep with you, out of sheer sympathy I should say."
"I should think he would have. Anything would go to sleep with Chunky on hand," declared Ned.
"You fellows are too funny! I don't care what you think. I'm going to have something to eat. Where's the biscuit?"
"Packed."
"Then we'll unpack them again. I guess I've got as much right to the grub of this outfit as the next one."
With that Stacy helped himself to such of the food as he was able to find. In order to get what he wanted he was obliged to undo three of the large packs. Once undone no one would help him lash them together again, so grumbling and growling, the fat boy tugged with the ropes until he had taken a secure hitch about each of the three packages. They made him tie the three before they would allow him to eat the biscuit and cold bacon that he had got out.
While Stacy was munching his cold lunch the others were lashing the packs to the lazy ponies and preparing to start again, every one being anxious to reach the mountains before night fell. But the fat boy was surly as well as sleepy. He felt aggrieved. That his companions should sit down to a meal, leaving him asleep on his pony, filled Stacy with resentment and a deep-rooted determination to be even with them. He was already planning how he could repay his companions in their own coin.
"Better not try it," suggested Tad carelessly as he passed the fat boy on his way to get his pony.
"Try what?"