"
"Do you think he's lost in the woods?" asked Fenn.
"I don't know what to think, Stumpy," replied Bart, who seemed to have
taken charge of things. "It's rather funny, I must admit."
They waited about an hour and then began firing again. Between the shots
they listened for a hail, but none came.
"If he heard us he'd fire an answering shot," remarked Ned, when, for a
time, they had again desisted from their signaling.
"He couldn't," Fenn answered. "He left his gun in the tent."
"That's queer," Bart spoke. "If he knew he would be away after dark I'm
sure he'd have taken his gun, though there's nothing worse than skunks in
these woods."
"We'll fire some more, in about an hour," said Ned. "Then, if he doesn't
come, we'll have to wait until morning and make a search. It's mighty
strange, that's what it is."
"Probably he'll laugh at us for being worried," suggested Bart, with an
attempt at a laugh that was rather mirthless. "Maybe he's night-fishing,
or something like that."
"He didn't take any tackle with him," said Fenn. "All his things are in
the tent. He just slipped out without a thing with him except his
pocket knife.
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