As soon as the boys saw the splendid negative, in clear-cut lights and shadows, they burst into a chorus of cries.
“It’s a moose, all right, Will!” Frank told the proud photographer.
“And sure a whopper, just as you said!” added Bluff.
“We take it all back,” Jerry vowed. “After this, we’ll own up that you know a bull moose from a mule or a buck deer every time.”
“That’s going to be a prize picture, all right!”
Those last words from Frank made Will very proud.
“I believe myself that I never got such splendid effects!” he exclaimed. “Why, I warrant you can see every hair on his head. Just look how I got him square in the middle of my plate! It’s better to be born lucky than rich, any day.”
“I’m done eating,” announced Bluff.
“Couldn’t cram another bite down, after seeing that picture!” Jerry proclaimed, as he darted over to the corner where his rifle stood, and began to buckle on the webbed belt filled with cartridges.
“Wear your sweaters, and be sure your woolen gloves are in your pockets,” cautioned weather-wise Frank.