Page:The Outdoor Chums.djvu/131

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THE COMING OF THE STORM
119

"You forget the worst thing of all—the stealing of my gun!" grumbled Bluff.

"Well, I wish Jerry was back. I hate to think of him wandering around in the woods in the storm that's coming, for it's going to be a corker," remarked Frank, eying the darkening sky with uneasiness.

"Perhaps the old trapper influenced him to stay over with him till to-morrow?" suggested Will, who was making his beloved camera secure against rain by wrapping it in folds of waterproof material brought along for the purpose.

"A bright idea; and I hope it's so. But you know, he said he meant to take in a new locality for a hunt after seeing Jesse. Well, Jerry is up to many things connected with woods life, and at any rate he knows how to look out for himself," and as he spoke Frank stooped down by the tent.

"What are you doing now?" asked the curious Bluff.

"Driving these tent pegs in deeper. There's no telling what sort of wind may be on us. Listen to that, will you?" said Frank.

"Thunder, as sure as you live! Pretty late in the year for that, ain't it?"

"Oh, we sometimes hear it even in winter. But, you see, the day has been unusually close