“Hip, hip, hurrah!  Hurrah! hurrah!  Tiger!”

No doubt, many persons ashore, who heard that lusty shout come ringing over the clear water of the beautiful little lake on which the town of Centerville was located, wondered what the burst of enthusiasm meant.

But then they knew these four boys were built along the right lines, and that while they loved the whole outdoors, with its attendant exciting times, never had they been known to indulge in mean pranks.

After the cheer had died away there was a shaking of hands all around.

“Fellows, it begins to look as though our great trip to the Gulf of Mexico last winter might not be our last grand outing, after all.  You know what our parents promised us if we went through all right?”

“Hear! hear!  Frank has the floor!” cried Jerry.

“We were to have our choice of an extended tour through Yellowstone Park to California, and return by way of the Canadian Rockies; or a grand hunt in the wilderness, wherever we chose to take it.  That was the idea, wasn’t it?” went on the happy occupant of the Jupiter.

“Talk to me about your personally conducted tours all you please, nothing appeals to me like a real old hunt in the Great West,” said Jerry ecstatically.  “Haven’t I just longed for a chance to look at a big elk in his native wilds, for years?  And the thought of a grizzly bear sends a thrill of pleasure through me.”

“And as for me, haven’t I lain awake nights without number thinking about what bliss it would be to actually snap off a few pictures of those same animals right where they live?  How tame to go to a menagerie and get a photo of a poor old bear behind the bars, when a fellow has a chance to take him in the open!”

Of course it was Will who made this remark.  He was the official photographer of the Rod, Gun and Camera Club, as our four boy friends called themselves, and his ambition to secure striking scenes, with wild game in the center of the stage, had already led him into quite a few scrapes, just as it would again when the opportunity presented itself.

“But what I have told you isn’t quite all,” remarked Frank presently, when the chatter of voices allowed him a chance to get in a few words edgewise.

“What else have you got up your sleeve?” demanded Bluff.

“Yes, confess everything, and perhaps we’ll forgive you,” came from Will.

“Well, I’ve had a letter.”  And Frank held something up.

“From that old side partner of Jesse Wilcox, the trapper whose camp we used to visit during our fall hunt?” cried Jerry.

Frank nodded his head.

“And what does he say?  Hurry up, and tell.  Can’t you see that Bluff, here, will be overboard?  He’s leaning so far over the side that the water is ready to pour in over the gunwale.  Will Martin Mabie take us out?” asked Jerry.

“He says he will be glad to do so, for old friendship’s sake.  I’m to wire when to expect us, and leave the rest to him,” Frank explained.