The boys set the pans on the ground. For a moment the ponies eyed them and then trotted up, the eight crowding one another to get at the four measures.
"Now's the time," breathed Bill.
In a trice the bits were thrust into the ponies' mouths and the leather over their ears.
Lightning plunged back, but Larry grabbed the reins just in time and held him.
"Push the pan to him," directed Horace, and, as he smelled the oats, the pony grew still and was soon munching contentedly.
After catching his own mount, Bill had bridled Buster, and as soon as the oats were devoured, all five were saddled with little trouble and the boys were quickly on the backs of four of them, Bill leading the pony for his father.
It required but a few minutes to make fast the saddle bags Hop Joy had filled with food, tin plates, cups, knives and forks, coffee pot, sugar and coffee and to tie on their sleeping blankets.
Then they buckled on their cartridge belts, slung their rifles across their shoulders and again mounted.
By the time they were ready, however, the grub wagon was coming into the yard.
"Where's Hans?" gasped Larry, the first one to discover that there was only one occupant.