Then the three boys started off, meaning to head in a direct line for the
distant camp of the old trapper.
"What if we don't find him there?" asked the skeptical Will.
"Wait till we get to the river before trying to cross. I reckon we'll be
apt to find some traces of him there. And even if he was caught out in
the woods in that storm, that's no sign he was hurt or killed. Jerry
knows enough to get in out of the wet; and depend on it he found shelter
somehow, somewhere."
So Frank buoyed their spirits up in his accustomed cheery way. One could
easily see that he belonged to the optimist family, and never looked on
the gloomy side of things.
They had not gone half a mile away from the camp before they discovered
some one moving through the bushes ahead.
"There he is!" exclaimed Bluff, eagerly, as he raised his hand to his
mouth, as if about to give a "cooie."
"Hold on! I don't believe it is. There, you see, it's a man, and a
hunter, too, I expect, for he's carrying a gun," interrupted Frank.
"Perhaps he may have seen Jerry. Shall we ask him?" demanded Will.
"If we keep on straight we're going to meet him, and, of course, we'll
ask. I only hope he has, though I doubt it.
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