Jerry had been over the ground before on this very morning.
"I wonder whether he'll bother taking the pelts of those four dogs?" ventured Will, as he and his two friends walked briskly along.
"Hardly. Dogskins may be valuable, but the buckshot in my gun just about ruined those for any use, all but the yellow fellow. I had to laugh at Jesse when he saw these tails. His eyes were like saucers," declared Jerry, chuckling.
"All right, it was a pretty clever piece of work, and he knew it. If that big hound had ever laid hold of you—ugh! I don't want to think of it. Let's talk about something pleasant—Bluff's pump-gun for instance," remarked Frank.
His eyes met those of Jerry, and the other turned red in the face.
"I don't see anything pleasant about that subject. Goodness knows we hear enough of it from him. What d'ye suppose he wanted to stay in camp for?" he demanded.
"Perhaps to cudgel his brains in order to remember whether he could have taken it with him when we ran out of camp that night; or, perhaps, to give another look around," suggested Frank, dryly.
"Good luck to him, then," continued Jerry. "He ought to employ the great American detec-
