gentleman, for
all he looks so queer and acts so strangely. He's had something upset
him in the past, and chooses to live away from everybody."

"Yes," added Will, "and he's got a right to do as he chooses with his
own property, you'll allow, Jerry."

"Sure thing!" agreed the other, though with a shade of disappointment
crossing his face, "and I guess I'll have to keep my hands off, since
the sign is up 'no trespassing allowed here!' But anyway, I do hope we
shall run across Old Aaron and his Rod somewhere in our jaunt to-day."

Frank had nothing more to say on the subject. He was determined not to
yield to any temptation, and enter those forbidden grounds again after
being so plainly warned off by the irascible owner.

Leaving the rocky section of country, they began to traverse a region
quite different in its character. From time to time various
interesting things cropped up to attract their attention.

Bluff and Jerry wanted the photographer to snap off all sorts of what
they called "mighty absorbing subjects," but Will wisely used his fine
discrimination.

"Why, look here," he finally told them, "if I took your advice right
along I'd be out of stock in the film line before half the day was
over. And I don't know of anything to make a fellow feel worse than to
have used his last film and then run across a subject that he'd give
heaps to get."

"Will is right, boys," remarked Frank; "leave it to him to decide
things like that. I'd stake a lot on his judgment, you must know."

"Well," commented Will, with a chuckle, "I'm a ninny when it comes to
lots of things connected with outdoor life; but I do know something
about taking pictures, if I say it myself."

At noon-time they stopped and rested for more than an hour, and ate
the cold lunch that had been provided. It was warm, and consequently
no one felt sorry for the chance to lie in the shade.

Frank afterwards swung around in a half circle. He kept his bearings
all the time, and professed to know accurately just where they were,
and in what quarter the camp lay.

"For what's the use of claiming to be a woodsman," he told Bluff when
the other looked a little incredulous over something or other, "if you
don't keep track of your direction? I feel sure that as the crow flies
Cabin Point lies over there, right beyond that tree with the feathery
crown."

About three in the afternoon all of them owned up to feeling a bit
weary.

"But I reckon we must be gett