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Allen, Captain Quincy [pseud.]

"The Outdoor Chums The First Tour of the Rod, Gun and Camera Club"


"Sure you didn't--er--go to sleep out on that log, and dream somebody
gave you a push?" he queried, cautiously.
"Rats! I guess I ought to know. But see here, perhaps you can prove it,"
declared Bluff, indignantly.
"How?" demanded the other.
"Look down at your feet and see if he left any trail, that's how."
Will immediately did as he was told.
"Say, come here. There are tracks all right. Perhaps you're better up in
that sort of thing than I am. It was a human being after all, and no
dream," he called.
Bluff hastened to join him.
"Why, of course, just as I said. This is where he hurried away. You can
see the mark of his feet easy. And looky there, one shoe, the right, has
got a patch on it, a piece that runs to a point. Oh! I'd know that skunk
any time from that. It's a sure clue, I tell you," he exclaimed.
"But you'd better get dried off as soon as you can. Why, you're
shivering now."
"Got any matches; mine are all soaked?" said Bluff, his teeth
rattling together.
"I always carry a few. Yes, here they are. Let me make a quick fire,
while you jump around to warm up; and Bluff, _please_ keep your eye on my
camera, won't you?"
"Sure," replied the other, commencing to leap and frisk around, so as to
get his chilled blood in circulation again.


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