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THE RACE FOR A CAMP-SITE
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hurt. This bang-up modern machine shooter is no more murderous for me than yours is in your hands. 'Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof!' and I'm ready to compare notes at the end of our little expedition, to see who has slaughtered the most game," and Bluff wagged his round head with its thatch of yellow hair, defiantly.

"Well, a man is known by the company he keeps, and any true sportsman——" began Jerry, ready to open the discussion on the spot.

"Rats!" exclaimed Will, as he got in readiness to mount his machine; "stow all that hot air until the first chilly night. Perhaps you'll need it before long. I say, Frank?"

"Well, what?"

"Has the wagon started along?" asked the other, eagerly.

"Yes, I saw it off before coming over here. Everything's aboard, and unless old Uncle Toby has an accident on the road, he guarantees to get up there shortly after noon," replied the leader, quietly.

"So, you got your hired man to do the driving; and I've half a suspicion the team comes from your place, too. That's mighty nice of your father, Frank. Suppose we could keep Toby with us one night to see us started?"

"Father said we could have him all we wanted.