get into the queerest scrapes ever heard of.
Here goes!" with which Frank began to run.

The others kept close at his heels, and as the outcries increased they
even put on additional speed, bursting out of the timber to see as
strange a spectacle as ever greeted the eyes of woodsmen returning to
their camp.

CHAPTER XXIV

WHAT BLUFF DID

"Why, it's a bear!" exclaimed Jerry, as the three boys came to a
standstill on the border of the camp.

"It sure is, and nothing less," admitted Frank, his face beginning to
pucker up with the advance stages of a laugh.

"Oh! if I can only get my camera on him--what glorious luck!" breathed
Will, as his trembling fingers worked to drag the little black box out of
its cover.

The bear was busy just then, in fact, exceedingly engaged. He had taken
to turning things over around the fire just as though some one had given
him a sheriff's search warrant, and he meant to use it to the limit.

"He's hungry, all right; look at him getting away with the corn Uncle
Toby was just going to cook for supper. Say, that must be the same old
critter I interviewed while I was caged in that tree," said Jerry,
tickled at the thought.

"What makes you think so?" demanded Frank.

"He's so curious and so persistent, you see. Besides, I don't believe
there's another bear within ten miles of here. Oh! it's my old
friend, you just bet. And that means I ought to have the privilege of
slaying him."

"Don't be piggish, Jerry. Let some of the rest of us do something or
other," remarked Frank, with a touch of satire in his voice.

He had his own gun handy, and meant to have a share in getting a supply
of bear meat for the camp larder.

"Do you see Uncle Toby? I'll be blessed if he hasn't gone and made a
ladder, and has used it to climb up in that tree yonder," declared Jerry,
snickering.

"Sensible old Toby. If I had to make shift to be a monkey as often as he
has, I think I'd have a ladder, too. Saves considerable trouble, you see,
and the wear and tear on his clothes counts, too. But didn't we leave
Bluff in camp--I don't see anything of our pard, do you, boys?"

A sharp "click" close to Frank's ear announced that Will was at his old
tricks again. He had snapped off a view of the shaggy visitor squatted
there with the open kettle between his paws, scooping up its juicy
contents with evident relish. Canned corn was a treat that did not come
his way every day, and Bruin meant to make the mo