STACY GETS ANOTHER SHOCK

“Step lively! It is time we were at the fort,” urged the trooper.

“I call this an outrage,” declared Nora Wingate heatedly.

The guard made no reply, but strode away towards his horse, returning a few moments later with the animal saddled and bridled.

“As we shall not return here in all probability, would it not be wise to break camp?” suggested Grace.

“Can’t wait for that,” returned White briskly. “Get your horses.”

Hippy bristled.

“My dear sir, even if you are the United States Government, we are not going to leave this camp unprotected. If you can’t wait, have your companion remain here and guard it until our return. Understand? I refuse to leave this camp unprotected, nor can you make me do so. Now, which shall it be—strike camp or have the other guard stay here?”

The trooper eyed Lieutenant Wingate steadily for a few seconds, and the lieutenant returned the gaze in kind.

“Strike your camp!” ordered White tersely.

Hippy nodded to his companions. Badger grinned. He was much pleased that Hippy had faced the troopers and made them give in to him, but he well knew that the party was not yet at the end of their troubles. There was still Colonel Appleby at the fort to be reckoned with, and the colonel was known to be a stern man. Of course the Overland Riders were not yet bothering themselves about the colonel.

Within half an hour the camp was struck and the outfit packed, the two troopers interestedly observing the work, and nodding approvingly. The Overland party set out soon after that, White and his companion riding ahead, Jim Badger bringing up the rear, but this morning the Riders were unusually quiet.

After reaching the fort on the plateau where the Mammoth Springs Hotel was located, White ordered his prisoners to dismount and follow him. They were escorted into Colonel Appleby’s presence.

“What have you to say to this?” demanded the colonel, after Trooper White had briefly stated the case against the Overlanders.

“We do not deny the facts, sir,” replied Tom Gray. “I assure you, though, that there was no intent to violate Park regulations.”

Colonel Appleby regarded the party with keen appraising gaze, and saw that he was dealing with people of refinement.

“Which one did the shooting?” he demanded finally.

“I did,” answered Stacy, standing up.

“Explain how you came to discharge your rifle.”

Stacy did so, telling the story of the incident exactly as it had occurred. He saw that it would be futile to try to impress the colonel with his importance. The officer listened attentively.

“Did you hit the bear?”

“I—I guess I didn’t. I couldn’t see very well in the darkness,” answered Chunky rather lamely.

“I am positive that he did not hit a bear,” volunteered Lieutenant Wingate.

“Mr. Wingate struck up the shooter’s arm as he was taking his second shot,” interjected Tom.

The colonel regarded Tom shrewdly, with the suspicion of a twinkle in his eyes.

“As you undoubtedly are aware, discharging firearms in the Park is a serious offense. Strict regulations govern the carrying of arms, and for reasons which you will readily understand. In the circumstances, I have no alternative in the matter. I might imprison the young man, but I shall not do so. Instead, I shall impose a fine of fifty dollars, and—”

“Fifty dollars!” gasped Chunky, aghast.

“As I was about to say,” resumed the officer, “I fine you fifty dollars, but will remit the fine pending your future good behavior.”

Stacy Brown drew a long sigh of relief.

“I shall require, however, that your party give up their arms or have them sealed to remain so until you leave the Park. This is customary. Your side arms, if you have any, you are at liberty to carry as usual. Instead of giving up their arms, travelers ordinarily prefer to have the locks of the weapons sealed, so that, in case they are beset by bear or other animals, they may have a means of defending themselves. This sometimes occurs.”

“If a bear tackles me, may I kill him?” interposed Stacy hopefully.

“Self-preservation is the first law of nature, young man. So far as I know that law has never been repealed,” smiled the colonel. “But make no mistake in this matter. It is generally better to run than to shoot. You are guiding this party, are you not?” he demanded, turning to Jim Badger.

“Yes, sir.”

“Then I shall hold you, as well as your employers, responsible, for any violation of Park regulations. That will be all. You will please register, get your permits, and turn your weapons over to the guard to be sealed, provided you wish to take them with you.”

After thanking the officer, the party walked out, Stacy soberly, the others smiling broadly.

“I wonder what next?” laughed Nora.

“Probably a life sentence for Stacy,” answered Elfreda.

“I shan’t serve it alone,” retorted Chunky.

After having the locks of their weapons sealed with sealing wax, the Overland party left the fort, and immediately held a consultation with their guide, at which they decided to make camp near by, using the Springs section as a base for a few days while exploring that part of the Park.

A camp site was selected about half way up the slope, overlooking the fort, the plateau and the hotel. It was both sightly and delightful there, and their camp was made with some idea to permanency. Badger proved himself to be extremely handy at this work, and the Overlanders concluded that he was going to be a useful man for them.

The work was finished shortly before noon and Grace suggested that they all go to the hotel for luncheon, a suggestion that was enthusiastically approved, so, putting on their “best,” the party rode down to the hotel, where they enjoyed a real meal of brook trout and other good things. After luncheon they sat on the broad veranda watching the splendid teams hooked to Concord coaches, carrying parties of tourists to the geysers or on a journey around the Park itself.

From the verandas of the hotel were visible the dazzling white terraces of the Mammoth Springs, shining like ridges of solid silver in the bright sunlight. From the plateau, terrace rose upon terrace, finally disappearing among the pines far up on the opposite mountain-side. The guide told them that there were two hundred acres of these terraces.

“Yonder phenomenon that delights and mystifies, is simply calcareous material deposited by the overflowing springs held in—in a—a—well, in a chemical solution,” finished Tom hesitatingly.

“Ahem!” said Emma.

The others nodded solemnly, their eyes regarding the entrancing scene before them. In the far distance lay the Gallatin Range, ten thousand feet above the level of the sea, while, from the broad plateau, on which they were, rose Electric Peak, bordered at its base by a fringe of slender green pines. The Peak, from the first, held a strong appeal for the Overland Riders. Perhaps it was the name, perhaps something that they had heard about it, but whatever the reason, they determined to climb the Peak, where they were destined to learn more than guide books could tell them of Nature’s vast storage battery.