“Sick?  No, but I’m broken-hearted, that’s what.  It’s gone!” shouted the other, wringing his hands, “some wretch has stolen my camera, and films!”

CHAPTER XXII

“LOOK PLEASANT, PLEASE!”

“What’s that?” exclaimed Andy Lasher, jumping up from the side of Frank, where he had dropped to lend Jerry a helping hand.

“My camera’s stolen!  I placed it carefully behind that tree so nobody could step on it, and now the whole thing’s disappeared!” said Will, almost choking with deep emotion.

“I bet that’s the work of Pet Peters and the other fellows!” exclaimed Andy, his freckled face showing dark signs of anger.

“Hey, don’t forget about me!” bellowed a voice from the depths; “the blooming old pole turned round then, and I slipped back five feet.  Hold her steady, you fellows, and give me a chance to climb out!”

“That’s a fact.  Come along, Jerry,” said Frank.

So the imprisoned one crawled out, only too glad to once more plant his feet on solid ground.

“Talk to me about your trapeze acts, and your parachute drops, I guess I know all the sensations.  And let me tell you I don’t hanker after any more of the same kind.  Now, what’s all this row about your black box, Will?” cried Jerry, as he felt of his various joints to make sure he was all sound.

“It’s been hooked while we were getting you out.  That Pet Peters has made way with it.  Oh! if he ever tears open the package that contains my beloved films, I’m just ruined.  All my work for nothing; and they can never be replaced again.”

“We’ll get ’em, don’t you fear,” exploded Andy.  “I’ll run back to camp right away, and make him give ’em up.”

“If you only would, I’d be ever so much obliged, Andy.  Three dozen, yes, four now, of the finest scenes a fellow ever could take.  Why, some of them are immense!”

“I suppose you are referring now to that one where that yellow dog was chasing me around the tree; but I wouldn’t die of grief if posterity never got a squint at that picture,” said Jerry, shaking his head.

“Please start now,” urged Will; “for they will be opening the package just for spite.  One little bit of daylight and the whole thing will be ruined.  And from what I know of Pet Peters, I believe he’d do it.”

“I just reckon he would, now.  All right, I’m off,” said Andy.

“Wait, and we’ll go with you,” declared Frank, quietly.

“I can do it just as well alone; still, perhaps it is good to have you fellers along.  But we must run,” Andy observed.

“We can do it.  Come on, boys!” cried Frank

They started off through the timber, even Jerry keeping up a rattling pace, although somewhat out of breath.

“Better not talk,” admonished Andy, when Will manifested a disposition to continue his doleful wails about his terrible loss.