Bluff, always ready for trouble, reached out his hand toward Jerry’s gun as he spoke, showing his willingness to follow up his suggestion by immediate action.
“Not so fast, my hearty. If we attacked their camp and then found that they had nothing to do with Jerry’s kidnapping we’d be in a nice pickle, wouldn’t we? After that they could say we were a lot of savages, as well as they.”
“But something should be done!” expostulated Bluff.
“And I propose to do it. In other words I mean to take a little stroll around the point, and see what their camp looks like,” remarked Frank, rising.
“If you find they’ve got our chum, promise to come back for us. We want to have a hand in bringing about his release. You will, won’t you, Frank?” asked Bluff.
“I promise you, boys. Keep Jerry’s gun with you, and stay on guard. Don’t shoot in a hurry, because you might pepper me, and that’s something I object to. Now I’m off.”
“Good luck to you, Frank, and take care of yourself,” said Will.
Frank made his way into the brush. He could have approached the other camp with far less trouble had he chosen to keep along the edge of the water. It struck him, however, that the enemy might anticipate a raid of some sort after their recent miserable attempt to cripple the members of the Rod, Gun and Camera Club in their resources, and be on the watch for stragglers along the beach.
They would possibly not dream that any one would take all the trouble to push through the dense brush, and climb the hill, at the base of which they had squatted upon landing.
Frank was in no hurry. He knew that Pet’s companions would be all excited over his bedraggled condition when he reached shore. Still, it was hardly probable that they would venture to take up the cudgels, and attempt any more mischief, that night at least.