The Pony Rider in New England

The Pony Rider Boys in New England - or An Exciting Quest in the Maine Wilderness by Frank Gee Patchin"Here's Tad. He'll tell us," cried Walter Perkins. "Oh, Tad, how long a trip is it to the Maine Woods from here?""That depends upon whether you walk or ride," answered Tad Butler, walking slowly up to the barn of Banker Perkins where three brown-faced boys were sitting in the doorway, polishing bridles, mending saddles and limbering up their lassos."Of course you know what we mean," urged Ned Rector with a grin."Yes, I know what you mean.""He isn't mean. You're the mean one," interjected Stacy Brown, otherwise known among his fellows as Chunky, the Fat Boy."Chunky, remember we are at home in Chillicothe now and are supposed to set examples to our less fortunate fellow citizens. Any fellow who can get into the village paper the way you have done ought to hold his head pretty high," chuckled Rector.Stacy threw out his chest."You mean that lion-catching article?"Ned nodded."Yes, that was a pretty swell article. They think I'm the original wonder here in Chillicothe.""You are. There can be no doubt of that," laughed Tad."I'm glad you've come, Tad," continued Ned, turning to young Butler. "We are planning for the new trip to the Maine Woods. I shall be glad to get east. I've never been far east. Any of the rest of you been east?""Well, I have been out to Skinner's farm. That's east of the village," declared Stacy Brown.