"It's Chunky and the bronchos yawning," Ned Rector informed him.

"So did you," observed Stacy Brown.

"Did what?"

"Yawned. See, see! Your mouth's open now. You're going to yawn this
very second You----"

His taunts were lost in the shouts of the Pony Riders. Ned Rector's
face was set determinedly, a vacant expression having taken full
possession of his eyes.

"He is going to yawn," announced Walter solemnly. "Stake down the
camp."

In spite of his determination not to yield to the impulse of the
moment, Ned's mouth slowly opened to its extreme capacity,
accompanied by a deep intake of breath.

"Y-a-h-h-h-hum!" he exploded.

"Got you that time. He--he----" Walter's words died away in a
long-drawn, gaping yawn.

Ned waited to hear no more. With a yell he projected himself at the
fat boy. Stacy, however, observing the move, had quickly rolled to
one side. Ned struck the ground heavily.