"Feels pretty fair. Next time I chase out of camp I'm going to make sure to clear that old box, all right. How about the rest--do you say go?" asked Jerry. "Count me in," called Will. "Yes, you will want to get some views of the old trapper and his cabin, with the door covered with muskrat skins," remarked Frank. "Coming along, Bluff?" asked Jerry, watching the other covertly. "I guess not to-day. I'm going to hunt around again to see if I could have unconsciously grabbed up that gun as I bolted, and then dropped it in the brush. Such a thing might happen, you know, fellows," returned the other. So he remained behind when the other three sallied forth, Frank and Jerry carrying their guns over their shoulders, while Will brought up the rear bearing his camera ready for use and on the lookout for subjects. "If you see any game please give me a chance to snap a view before you shoot," he pleaded; at which the others laughed. "Perhaps, but we can't promise. If a partridge got up suddenly it would be a case of shoot first, and think afterwards," said Frank. "But if it should be a deer standing feeding?" "Or a black bear on his hind legs begging?" jeered Jerry. "All right. I'm going to be ready for all that comes along. Still life, if I have to, or anything else." Will's last words were drowned in the report of Jerry's gun. He had swung it around like a flash, and without apparently glancing along the barrels, fired one charge at something that was flashing through the undergrowth. There came a second shot, so close upon the heels of the first that the reports were almost blended in one. Jerry turned and looked reproachfully at Frank. "Talk about your sporting blood, you sure wiped my eye that time," he said. "The bird was a little too close for your shot to scatter; I had a better chance as it flew away farther. You'd have dropped him with your second barrel, I reckon, old fellow," cried Frank, hurrying forward to pick up the partridge. "Yes, I've no doubt I would; but that's the first time I ever had any one step in and beat me clean. I'll have to watch out for you after this, you sly 'possum. But then you've shot lots of these birds up in Maine, I suppose?" "Plenty of them; but up there they light in trees, and the natives don't hesitate to drop them while they sit." "That's little short of murder," said Jerry. After an hour's walk they reached the camp of old Jesse. "There it is, boys," said Frank, pointing ahead. "And he's home, too; something I hardly expected at this time of day," from Jerry. "Because if he has a line of traps the morning is the time he tends them, I'm told." As they approached, the man in the camp turned and saw them. He was a tall and angular fellow, well on in years, and with keen eyes that seemed always looking for signs around him. "Say, boys, this here is right nice o' you, comin' to look me up. Out on a leetle hunt to-day?" he asked, as he shook hands all around.