And they did.
Will managed to take a few views during the middle of the day, prowling
in the neighborhood of the camp. There was a pretty stream not far away,
and it ran over rocks and between attractive banks, so that half a dozen
charming pictures presented themselves to the eyes of the artist.
The Fall had not advanced so far as to show signs of ice on the water,
though there were times when the air was very crisp and frosty.
Bluff had remained in camp pretty much all day. He seemed uneasy, and
passed in and out of the tents frequently as though wondering what could
have happened to bring about such a mysterious disappearance of his
beloved gun.
Sitting by the fire for a time, he would conceive some idea, and jumping
to his feet hurry into the woods to search a particular spot where he
remembered having passed over on that never-to-be-forgotten night.
Still, when the others returned in the afternoon there was the same look
of distress upon his face.
"Talk to me about a pagan and his idols," said Jerry, aside to Frank;
"Bluff has the whole show beaten. I never saw such a persistent
fellow, never."
"He'll never be happy till he gets it, Jerry," remarked the other.
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