“That bunch of tracks seems plain enough to make a fine picture, with the sunlight shining on the place. Let me get it.” And Will proceeded to carry out his idea.
He had just “clicked” his shutter when Jerry said, in a low tone:
“Great governor! Frank, is that one of the wolves over yonder?”
Of course they all looked in the direction Jerry pointed, and it goes without saying that more than one of the boys felt nervous upon remembering that no one had brought a gun along.
Then Frank spoke up, and his voice, as well as his words, went a long way toward stilling their alarm.
“That’s no wolf, boys; I’d rather say it might be a dog. He seems to have come upon a hole in the ground, and has got some sort of animal cornered. Listen to him bark as he digs with his forepaws!”
“And see the dirt fly, will you, as well as the snow!” observed Bluff. “But say, Frank, seems to me we know that cur.”
“Yes, we’ve met him before,” Frank admitted.
“It’s Nackerson’s beast, then,” suggested Jerry.
“No doubt about it,” he was informed by Frank, who still watched the excited dog, digging and thrusting his nose as far down in the burrow as he could. “Better take care, Carlo, or you may get a nip from the claws or the teeth of your game!”