"As long as we have a real trapper here," he announced, "I'm going to take a picture of the whole crowd."
"Knew a feller oncet who had one of them jiggers," observed Hank, slowly. "I never had no picter of myself."
"Well, I'll give you one of these," said Dick. "Step this way, gentlemen, and get your phizzes taken. Get up, Dave. Stay right where you are, Hank."
He stepped back, while the others ranged themselves around. There was a sharp click, and Dick announced that it was all over.
"I'm going to take some wild animals with this, Hank," he said.
"Wild critters, eh, lad?"
Hank's gray eyes rested on the youthful photographer. Then he gazed reflectively at the rings of smoke again.
"Mebbe I kin help ye," he said, kindly. "Kin ye take one of them picters at night—by jacklight?"
"By jacklight?" questioned Dick, in puzzled tones.
"Sartingly! But perhaps you never hearn tell of it?"