“Seems like an Irish wash-day,” remarked Will, as he surveyed the various blankets and other things spread out on bushes to dry in the sunshine and air.

“Only for Jerry’s strange absence, I’d feel bully,” remarked Frank.

“Don’t you think we’d better start out and look for him?” asked Will.

“Yes, after we’ve had some breakfast.  I never like to attempt anything on an empty stomach.  And, besides, you see, we may have to go all the way over to Jesse’s shack before we learn about him,” observed Frank.

“Do you really think he’s stayed there?” questioned Bluff, anxiously; for even though he and Jerry seemed to be constantly bickering, deep down in their hearts they had a genuine affection for each other, as had been proven more than once.

“I hope so,” was all the other would say.

“And I’ve got a dreadful fear,” remarked Will, sighing, “that the poor fellow’s been caught under a falling tree.  So many went down last night.  I’ll hear that terrible crashing every time I wake up for a long time to come.  It haunts me, just because I imagined Jerry out in it all.”

Toby here banged the big spoon on the empty frying pan.  That was a welcome sound to a set of ravenous boys, and they quickly assembled around the rude table upon which the black chef was placing heaps of flapjacks, flanked by steaming cups of fragrant coffee.

Uncle Toby did not seem to relish being left alone in the camp again; but there was nothing else to be done.  Frank gave him some advice as to what he should do if any wild beast invaded the place; and also how he could threaten any of Andy’s crowd should they show up with hostile intent.

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.  Do either of you know him?”