. . .over the sand, peering into the sage brush and cactus shadows. But not a trace of Stacy Brown did they find, until they had gone some distance from camp.

A faint call at last answered their hail.

"Hooray! We've got him!" shouted Walter.

"Where are you, Chunky?" called Tad, hurrying forward.

"Here."

"Are you all right?"

"No, I'm dead."

The boys could afford to laugh now, and they did, after calling back to the camp that they had found the missing one.

Half buried in a sand drift they located him. Stacy's head and one foot were protruding above the sand, the only parts of his anatomy that were visible above the heap of white sand beneath which he had been buried.

The Pony Riders could not repress a shout when they came up with young Brown and understood his predicament.

"Get me out of here."

"No; you're dead. You stay where y. . . Read More