CHAPTER XVI—SIGNS THAT SPELLED TROUBLE
“Look! they’re doing it, too, Frank! Oh! what luck! Good for Bluff!” ejaculated Will, hardly able to control himself in his excitement.
“Just as sure as you live, they are. They knew Bluff meant business when he said that. Why, even the wounded fellow has his one well arm raised. It’s great!”
Frank generously handed the glasses to his comrade, whose hands trembled so that he could hardly hold them to his eyes.
“What’s he doing now, Will?”
“Seems to be holding that blessed gun with one hand, and paddling softly with the other. Ain’t he the real thing, though? And once we doubted whether he would be just the right sort of fellow to be a member of the club. I’m proud of good old Bluff, and that’s a fact!” cried Will.
“So say we all of us. He must be past the other boat by now; isn’t he?”
“Yes, and has laid the gun down, but where he can grab it up in a hurry if necessary. Pet and his crowd have resumed rowing, too, as if going ashore. They don’t seem anxious to call out at Bluff just now. Jerry used to say that terrible gun would frighten game to death; but even Jerry would have to admit that it’s worth while, if he could only be here, to see this lovely sight. Oh! why didn’t I have my camera ready? What a good picture that would have been,” sighed the official photographer of the club.
“Too far away to make out what was going on, my boy. But I only wish Jerry could have been here to see it. That would relieve me of my anxiety,” said Frank.
The canoe kept moving straight toward them, while the heavily laden boat continued over the lake toward the western shore.