"Give it up. He seemed to have a broad grin on his face, as though Nellie must have written something especially sweet. But here he comes out again, dancing like a wild Indian. What's he waving above his head, fellows?" said Frank.
"It's his lost hunting-knife, as sure as you live!" echoed Will.
"Just to think of it, boys! The beauty was in my clothes bag all the time, and I didn't know it! Nellie did it. She mentions the fact in this letter, and says she was so afraid I'd hurt myself with that knife, by accident, that she rolled it up in this new flannel shirt, which I've never thought to put on as yet, and thrust it down at the bottom of my clothes bag. I never thought to pull it out; and now that the big-game hunt is over I get my trusty blade."
"Tell me about that, will you! And you thought I was to blame," remarked Jerry.
"For which I beg your pardon. After all, perhaps no harm was done, and since Nellie only did it from the best of motives, why, I would be foolish to be angry."
"Sensible for once," observed Frank, winking at the others.
"
And so we will leave the ranch without the slightest cloud on the horizon. Fellows, all I can say is we're a lucky lot of boys," observed Will positively.