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172
THE OUTDOOR CHUMS

"He talks as though he courts an investigation," remarked Frank; "and in justice to his reputation, I think we ought to settle this matter without delay. So I'm in favor of going, for one; besides, I confess to a curiosity to see the dead dogs, and, perhaps, if fate is kind, look into the identical hollow tree in which Jerry passed most of that stormy night."

"It's a go, then," cried Will, eagerly; "for I want a few more pictures. If we could only rig up something to look like that yellow hound, and have Jerry galloping around that tree in front of him, it would be simply immense."

"Talk to me about a faker will you—why, if Will keeps on he'll be bamboozling the public worse than any showman ever did. Thanks, but I guess you'll have to excuse me from that galloping act, Will. Once bit, twice shy, you know. But it was gospel truth about Andy. He even confessed that he had been up to old Rabig's place to get him to join the crowd in playing some more measly tricks on us here. You see he was sorry, and had to just tell all these things."

"All but about my gun, hang him," grumbled Bluff, indignantly.

"Bother your old gun! Will we ever hear the last of it?" exclaimed Jerry, frowning; and yet