“I hope they’re not hovering around our camp, to make trouble for the boys,” observed Frank, shaking his head.

The other laughed aloud in a scoffing way.

“All I can say is, I’m mighty sorry for Pet and his pals if they try that sort of business when that criminal of a Bluff is sitting there with his Gatling gun, ready for work.  I’d sooner face a tiger, honest I would, than that instrument of destruction.  I bet there won’t be a chippy left around here when we get out.”

“Oh! shucks, Jerry, remember that he isn’t in your class.  When he empties that six-shot gun and makes a miss every time, what does it matter?  If the game had only poor Bluff and his repeater to fear they could well laugh.  But when you look over the sights it’s a different matter.”

“That’s nice of you, Frank.  I’ll try and be more lenient with the poor fellow, then.  Anyhow, I know he shuts both eyes when he pulls the trigger, for I’ve watched him more than once.  A man that’s gun-shy never will make a success as a hunter.  Isn’t that so?”

“I’ve been told so; but, all the same, Bluff is a good-hearted chap, and I like him first rate.  He furnishes fun for the whole squad; and, besides, nothing makes him mad—­at least, if he ever brushes up it’s over and done with like a flash.  But isn’t that the lumber camp ahead—­I thought I had a glimpse of it through the trees—­there it is again!” said Frank.

“You’re right, but I don’t see the wagon.”

“I hardly thought it would be here before half an hour more.  We needn’t go any farther than the cabin, and can be taking in the sights while we wait.”

“Precious little to see here; don’t compare with some of the big camps up in your Maine, I guess.  But they’re making a gash in the timber all right, and in a few years it’ll be all gone—­that is, what is worth taking.”

They came to a halt near the log cabin, from which the head of the cook was quickly thrust, he having heard the sound of their engines as they approached.

“Back again, boys?” he inquired genially, for the vision of that coin was still fresh in his memory.

“Bad penny always comes back, Jock,” laughed Jerry.

“We’ve come to convoy the wagon in.  You see all our supplies, tents, grub and blankets happen to be in that wagon, and we don’t mean to let it be captured by any of the Lasher crowd,” remarked Frank.

He saw the cook start at the mention of that name, as he muttered: 

“Butch Lasher a-comin’ up hyer—­then them fellers must aben some o’ his pals.”

“Just what they were,” and Frank went on to explain how it came there was a second vacation for the academy boys of Centerville, and also the unfortunate fact of Andy, known among his chums as “Butch” for some unexplained reason, having determined to take an outing in the same region at the identical time they had arranged to come.

“We expect to have trouble with them right along, but they’d better be careful how they try any of their smart tricks on us up here.  We mean to let them alone, if they mind their business and pay no attention to us; but, on the other hand, we know how to defend ourselves, and we’ve got the means to do it,” he went on.