our camp. Get your gun ready, Frank. Some of these crazy people are said to be dangerous," continued Will.
"Humbug! If you saw any one at all it must have been a scout from Andy Lasher's camp, snooping around," commented Bluff, disdainfully.
"Well, perhaps it might be another keeper from the asylum," remarked Smithson.
"There it is again; what did I tell you, fel"
Will stopped speaking in a whisper and gaped. True enough a human head had bobbed up above the tops of the bushes, as the owner of the same endeavored to get a better view of the camp.
"It's Jerry!" ejaculated Bluff, in excitement.
Mr. Smithson dropped out of sight, thinking that the stranger in camp might look that way, being attracted by the clamor of boyish tongues. Jerry had caught the words of Bluff and immediately turned his head.
"Hello, fellows! Howdye? And who under the sun is the new manager you've got to run the camp?" he asked, pushing out to greet them each iin turn, and eyeing Mr. Smithson in some curiosity.
"How are you, Jerry? Guess you know me all right, eh? Why, I'm up here looking for an escaped lunatic, you see," said that worthy, without rising.
