Some better clothes were found for Will, and after a good meal some of the hopelessness faded from his face. He told of his wanderings in the mountains, and how he had worked his way from camp to camp, and from stage station to stage station.
“But you’re done tramping around now,” said Jack.
“Have you—have you got room for me here?” faltered Will.
“Have we? Well, I guess!” was Jack’s hearty answer. “You can stay here as long as you like, or until you find your uncle. You’ve accepted my invitation to come camping, after all, and I guess your guardian would be surprised if he could see you now.”
“I guess he would,” remarked Will with a smile.
There was plenty of room in the big sleeping tent, and a bed was made up for the wanderer. It was the first good night’s rest he had had in nearly a week, he said.
As they had plenty of fresh meat in camp they did not go hunting for several days, but Jack and his chums could not remain inactive, so they all, including Will, went on short jaunts about the camp. A gun was provided for the newcomer, and he proved that he was a good shot, at least on jack-rabbits, which abounded in that region.
About a week after Will had joined his former chums they went on an all-day hunt. The luck fell to Bony and Sam this trip, for each of them killed a fine mountain ram, the horns of which were equal in size to the one slain by Jack.
Nat killed a small deer, and Will was delighted when he also brought one down.
“Plenty much game,” observed Long Gun. “No need hunt right ’way ’gin.”