Uncle Toby came down from his perch rather dubiously, as if he feared that the danger might not be all over.
"What happened to you, Uncle Toby?" asked Frank, giving the others a wink not to joke the old fellow too seriously, for he was still trembling.
"Yuh see 'twar dis way, Marse Frank: dat cat he jest wanted de ham more'n Unc Toby did, an' I naturally lets him hab it. He jumps down from de tree, an' I feels a notion to elevate 'bout dat time. Don' know how I gits up dar, but 'spect I done fly," explained the cook, as well as his chattering teeth would permit.
"He means he aviated upward," grinned Jerry.
Will was patting his camera lovingly.
"Oh! I do hope it turns out fine," he said; "for that would be a jolly hit. I'd rather snap off pictures like that than shoot a grizzly or a bull moose. Me for the gentle life. I'm no butcher."
"Talk to me about that, will you? You're a sport all right, Will, only it happens that your tastes run in a different direction from mine. Don't knock my love of fair play, and I won't laugh at your wanting to snap off every living thing you see, to make up a freak collection."
"All right, then, Jerry; consider it a bargain. I suppose you'll have a muff made out of this
