After the cheer had died away there was a shaking of hands all around.

"Fellows, it begins to look as though our great trip to the Gulf of
Mexico last winter might not be our last grand outing, after all. You
know what our parents promised us if we went through all right?"

"Hear! hear! Frank has the floor!" cried Jerry.

"We were to have our choice of an extended tour through Yellowstone Park
to California, and return by way of the Canadian Rockies; or a grand
hunt in the wilderness, wherever we chose to take it. That was the idea,
wasn't it?" went on the happy occupant of the _Jupiter_.

"Talk to me about your personally conducted tours all you please,
nothing appeals to me like a real old hunt in the Great West," said
Jerry ecstatically. "Haven't I just longed for a chance to look at a big
elk in his native wilds, for years? And the thought of a grizzly bear
sends a thrill of pleasure through me."

"And as for me, haven't I lain awake nights without number thinking
about what bliss it would be to actually snap off a few pictures of
those same animals right where they live? How tame to go to a menagerie
and get a photo of a poor old bear behind the bars, when a fellow has a
chance to take him in the open!"

Of course it was Will who made this remark. He was the official
photographer of the Rod, Gun and Camera Club, as our four boy friends
called themselves, and his ambition to secure striking scenes, with wild
game in the center of the stage, had already led him into quite a few
scrapes, just as it would again when the opportunity presented itself.