"Jewhittaker!" exclaimed Will, turning a trifle pale, and hugging his camera closer to his breast, as though his first fear concerned its safety.
"If that's so, I hope Jerry didn't run across him, that's all," remarked Bluff.
"Come on, hurry. You've given me a little shock now, and we must learn the truth immediately. Call out to him, Bluff—there, he sees us, and is coming this way."
As Frank said, the keeper was hurrying toward them now, an anxious look on his face. He nodded to Bluff as he came up.
"Camping up here, are you, boys? That's fine. Used to like to do it myself when I was younger. Say, you didn't happen to see anything of a wild-looking chap anywhere around, did you?" he asked, glancing at each in turn.
"Sorry to say we haven't, Mr. Smithson, Has one of your charges got away?"
"That's just what has happened, and I've been chasing him all over the country. Got track of him yesterday just before the beastly old storm hit me. He's somewhere around this section right now. Where's your camp, boys? He'll be pretty sharp set with hunger by now, and can scent grub a long ways off?" continued the keeper.
The three lads looked at each other.
