Mr. Mabie shook the hand of the successful wolf hunter with emphasis, showing that he felt deeply on the subject.
Just as he expected, Frank was still rather sore on the following day. He let the others do the hunting that morning, Will tagging behind the bunch with his ready camera.
They came in at noon, having covered some new ground, and brought the best part of an elk with them. Mr. Mabie laughed, and wished it might have been an antelope instead. He was not partial to elk meat, which was perhaps
natural in a stockman, who could kill young beef whenever the spirit moved.
"How about that bear den, Reddy?" asked Jerry, as they lounged about the camp in the early afternoon.
"Any time you say the word. I was only waitin' till Frank felt himself again," was the other's reply.
"Oh, don't let my condition keep you from that little entertainment. Besides, I feel much better now. Perhaps a little excitement might put me in just the right kind of trim," declared that individual promptly.
"Hear! hear!" exclaimed Bluff, making a pretense of clapping his hands.
"Talk to me about your dyed-in-the-wool sportsman! Frank, here, could give any fellow points," declared Jerry.
"I understand the principle he works on. It's the same as what they call homoepathy, that 'like cures like.' I've seen a man, when struck by a rattler, chase the reptile, kill him, and apply his crushed body to the wound, in the belief that one poison would counteract the other," said the stockman.