“We hoped he’d found you, and come back,” observed the former.
“Found us? What do you mean by that?” demanded the scoutmaster.
“We went down to the foot of the pool to fish,” explained Davy. “An hour later I came back to get another hook, and I found that Bumpus had disappeared, taking his gun with him.”
Thad and Allan exchanged worried glances. With night at hand and that clumsy tenderfoot lost somewhere in the big timber, it was no wonder that a sense of impending trouble, that might yet end in tragedy, oppressed them.
CHAPTER V.
THE MISSING TENDERFOOT.
“It looks like poor old Bumpus is lost,” said Allan, presently, breaking the silence that had fallen upon them all.
“Lost—whew!” muttered Giraffe, with a suggestive whistle, and an elevation of the eyebrows that stood for a great deal.
“That big booby lost!” said Step Hen.
“What on earth can we do?” Smithy asked.
Again they looked at each other.