"What makes you think so?" demanded Frank.
"He's so curious and so persistent, you see. Besides, I don't believe there's another bear within ten miles of here. Oh! it's my old friend, you just bet. And that means I ought to have the privilege of slaying him."
"Don't be piggish, Jerry. Let some of the rest of us do something or other," remarked Frank, with a touch of satire in his voice.
He had his own gun handy, and meant to have a share in getting a supply of bear meat for the camp larder.
"Do you see Uncle Toby? I'll be blessed if he hasn't gone and made a ladder, and has used it to climb up in that tree yonder," declared Jerry, snickering.
"Sensible old Toby. If I had to make shift to be a monkey as often as he has, I think I'd have a ladder, too. Saves considerable trouble, you see, and the wear and tear on his clothes counts, too. But didn't we leave Bluff in camp I don't see anything of our pard, do you, boys?"
A sharp "click" close to Frank's ear announced, that Will was at his old tricks again. He had snapped off a view of the shaggy visitor squatted there with the open kettle between his paws, scooping up its juicy contents with evident relish. Canned corn was a treat that did not come his
