"But what in the wide world is he doing? I believe he's been hurt, boys," declared Frank, with a touch of anxiety in his voice, for Jerry and he had been very thick of late. "Binding a bandage around his shin, as sure as you live! Hello! What happened to you, old fellow? Did one of those rocks hit home, or was it the box you tried to capture that jumped up and kicked you?" asked Will. Bluff was in the meantime rushing wildly about the camp as though looking for something. "I tumbled over that plagued box, that's all; and after limping around for a spell thought I'd better come back and put some witch-hazel on the bruise," explained the other, turning down his trousers' leg, and scrambling to his feet to ascertain how well he could walk. "It will be some stiff in the morning, I reckon. Talk about your bears, I thought one had me nailed when I fell over that thing 'ker chunk,'" he continued, as he rubbed his shin and screwed his face up as if to conceal his pain. "I told you so--it's gone!" shouted Bluff, at this juncture. "What's gone?" echoed Will. "My gun! Something seemed to tell me it was a silly thing for me to run off in that way and leave it. And now they've stolen it!" wailed Bluff. "What! Do you really mean to say you can't find it?" questioned Frank. "Help me look, fellows. Oh! my heart will be broken if it's true. I was just dreaming of what great things I meant to do with that splendid repeating shotgun. Please search around the camp!" pleaded Bluff. Of course they immediately started a thorough hunt for the strangely missing weapon, even the limping Jerry seeming as deeply interested in the search as any one of his comrades. High and low they looked, turning over all the blankets in the tents, but not a sign of the wonderful "pump-gun" could they discover. The other guns were just where they had been left, and so far as they could see not another thing had been stolen. "I declare, this is mighty queer," remarked Frank, when they were ready to give over the quest. "Strangest thing I ever heard of," declared Will. "Talk about your airships, I think the blooming old thing must have taken wings and sailed away," grunted Jerry, still rubbing his wounded shin sympathetically. "But why should they pick out Bluff's gun of the lot?" demanded Frank. "That's easy enough to answer. They knew a good thing when they saw it, I bet that crowd noticed what a bully gun I carried, when we passed them on the road, and they've been hanging around ever since," avowed Bluff, positively. "Then the rocks--" began Will "Were fired at us only to tempt a rush. It was all a plot, fellows, to coax us away for a short time. And the worst of it is the game worked only too well. I'll never get over that loss, never! I feel sick!" went on Bluff.