"Why, yes, so far as I know. Why do you ask?" demanded the warden.
"Because there's some one else crawling through the bushes over yonder."
"Are you sure?" asked Mr. Smithson.
"I saw his head pop up. He's looking in at our camp. Get your gun
ready, Frank. Some of these crazy people are said to be dangerous,"
continued Will.
"Humbug! If you saw any one at all it must have been a scout from Andy
Lasher's camp, snooping around," commented Bluff, disdainfully.
"Well, perhaps it might be another keeper from the asylum,"
remarked Smithson.
"There it is again; what did I tell you, fel--"
Will stopped speaking in a whisper and gaped. True enough a human head
had bobbed up above the tops of the bushes, as the owner of the same
endeavored to get a better view of the camp.
"It's Jerry!" ejaculated Bluff, in excitement.
Mr. Smithson dropped out of sight, thinking that the stranger in camp
might look that way, being attracted by the clamor of boyish tongues.
Jerry had caught the words of Bluff and immediately turned his head.
"Hello, fellows! Howdye? And who under the sun is the new manager you've
got to run the camp?" he asked, pushing out to greet them each in turn,
and eyeing Mr.
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