The Rover boys and their chums knew that Mr. Stevenson could not arrive at the camp before Tuesday evening. He would take the train to Beldane and would probably come up to the bungalow in a motor-boat. After breakfast on Tuesday time hung heavily with all of the lads. They took their morning bath and then knew hardly what to do, being somewhat excited over the prospect ahead.

“Maybe Mr. Stevenson will have a regular fight to get that book of formulas back,” was Randy’s comment.

“When he goes after those men and after Mr. Flanders he’d better go armed,” said Fred.

“I intend to go with him if he’ll let me,” put in Jack.

“I guess we’d all like to go along,” said Gif, with a laugh.

Not knowing what else to be at, Andy and Randy took a walk up the brook back of the bungalow. They were gone about half an hour when they came rushing back wild with excitement.

“We saw the bear!” gasped Andy, who was all but winded from running.

“He’s stretched out on some rocks sunning himself!” put in his brother.

“The bear! Where is he? Let’s get a shot at him!” exclaimed Fred, and, leaping up, ran for his gun.

All of the others did likewise, and in less than a minute the six campers, fully armed, were moving cautiously up the brook in the direction where the twins had said the bear had been located.

“We don’t want to make any noise,” whispered Jack.

“Is everybody’s gun in good condition?” questioned Gif, in an equally low tone. “We can’t take any chances, you know; that bear may be a real fighter when he’s aroused.”

At this each of the lads examined his weapon, to find it in good order and ready for use. They moved forward in a bunch, each straining his eyes to be the first to catch sight of bruin.

“Now take it easy,” said Randy presently. “Those rocks where we saw the bear are not over a hundred yards away.”

“Come on! Let us circle a little to the south,” cautioned Jack. “We don’t want the wind to carry our scent. Some of those bears have a nose as keen as a deer, so I’ve been told.”

As they advanced between the trees and around the rocks and brushwood the six lads carried their guns ready for instant use. If the truth must be told, each was anxious to get the first shot at the game.

“There he is!”

“He’s coming this way!”

“Shoot him!”

Bang! Crack! Bang! went the shotguns and light rifles the boys carried, and the black bear, suddenly leaping from some rough rocks just ahead of them, was shot in the foreshoulder and in the rump. The beast emitted a loud roar, and then suddenly disappeared behind some nearby brushwood.

“Where’d he go?”

“Look out! He may jump out at you!”

Reloading hastily, the six lads circled the brushwood cautiously, each straining for another sight of the black bear. They could hear a low growl and saw some of the bushes suddenly move.

“Give him another dose just for luck,” suggested Gif, and the six firearms sounded almost as one as all the lads fired at the spot where they thought the black bear might be.

How many of the shots reached the mark they were never to ascertain. But evidently the bear was hit again, and with a fearful roar of rage and pain it suddenly burst from the brushwood and lumbered in the direction where Fred and Spouter were standing.

“Shoot him! Shoot him quick!”

Crack! went Jack’s rifle and bang! came a report from the shotgun Gif carried. Then one after another the other weapons rang out and the black bear was halted when less than three yards away from Fred and Spouter. The huge creature, now on its hind legs, tottered from side to side and then came down with a crash at the foot of a big tree.

“Hurrah! We’ve got him!” cried Randy.

“Be careful! Maybe we’ll have to give him a shot or two more,” cautioned Jack.

The young major was right. The bear, a tough old fellow, was by no means dead. Though seriously wounded, it thrashed around and then did its best to stand up.

“I’m going to finish him,” cried Fred, and before any one could stop the stout young Rover, he had run forward and sent a charge of buckshot directly into the bear’s ear. At once the huge creature rolled over on its back, gave a few spasmodic jerks, and then lay still.

For a moment after the end came the boys could scarcely understand what had happened. Then, as they realized that they had laid the big black bear low, their faces broke out into smiles and they shook each other by the hand.

“We got him! We got him!” exulted Fred, dancing around. “And look at the size of him!”

“Some bear rug there, I’ll say,” was Randy’s comment.

“No bare floor with a bear rug like that,” chuckled Andy, who even in such a moment of excitement had to have his little joke.

“Now the question is, how are we going to get this bear down to camp?” said Gif, after they had made certain the creature was dead.

“We might as well skin it right here,” suggested Spouter. “No need of carting the whole carcass along. Why, it must weigh five or six hundred pounds!”

“We’ve got to have a picture of him,” cried Fred. And several snap shots were taken without delay.

“We want some bear steaks for supper,” said Jack. “We’ll treat Mr. Stevenson to a surprise.”

“Why can’t we roll the bear over to the brook and float him down somehow,” suggested Gif. And after a good deal of labor this was done and they managed to bring the carcass to a point some distance behind the bungalow. Here they skinned the bear and cut out the choicest of the meat, chopping up the remainder and dragging it off so that the smell might not reach camp.

Fred and Spouter were trying their hand at broiling some bear steaks when they heard a shout from the other lads. Thinking that Mr. Stevenson had arrived, they ran to the front of the bungalow, to behold a rowboat coming in containing a single occupant.

“It’s Jeff come back! What do you know about that?” cried Gif, in disgust.

“I suppose he’d like you to give him another trial, Gif,” said Jack.

“Not unless he promises to do much better than he did,” was Gif’s reply.

“Well, to have somebody to do the cooking and dishwashing would help out a whole lot,” said Spouter, with a sigh. Secretly he and the others were all tired of doing the housework.

“Good afternoon, gen’leman,” said Jeff, as he bowed politely to the six boys. “Kind o’ surprised to see me, I suppose?”

“We certainly are, Jeff,” answered Gif.

“I’s got a few days’ work with Mr. Mumbleton, cleanin’ up around his store and warehouse and doin’ odd jobs at the boathouse,” explained the colored man.

“I see,” answered Gif briefly.

“Thought maybe you might be tired of doin’ the work ’round the house,” went on Jeff uneasily. “Wouldn’t you like me to cook a first-class dinner for you? I’m jest achin’ to do it.”

“It’s only your confounded laziness, Jeff, that made us send you off,” answered Gif. “If you could get over that you’d be all right.”

“It wasn’t laziness, Mr. Gif. ’Twas the misery in my back. But that misery is done gone now, and I don’t think it’ll come back. And besides, I come here to tell you somethin’,” went on the colored man earnestly. “I wants to tell you somethin’ about some of them boys over to that camp yonder,” and he pointed to the eastern shore of the lake.

“What have you got to tell us, Jeff?” questioned Randy.

“I thought it might be of importance to you young gen’lemen. It’s about somethin’ that happened at Colby Hall while you was there. But say, Mr. Gif, how about it? Don’t you want me to get supper ready and clean up around the place?” questioned the colored man eagerly. “I don’t like it nohow down to that Mr. Mumbleton’s store. I’d ruther be workin’ for real quality people.”

“Well, we might give you another trial, Jeff,” answered Gif, after a glance at his chums. “But remember, you’ve got to be right on the job. No more going to sleep and letting a good dinner burn up.”

“No, sir! No, sir! Nothin’ like that no more. That misery in my back is gone, and you’ll find me wide awake,” answered Jeff earnestly.

“Now what have you got to tell us about those fellows over in the other camp?” asked Spouter, impatiently.

“It’s about a fire what done took place at the Colby Hall boathouse,” answered Jeff, much to the astonishment of all the lads.