Part 11 (2/2)
said Owen, with a rather forlorn smile; ”but still he doesn't come out of the window where he must have gone in.”
”H-h-he likes it in t-t-there. Most c-c-comfortable place he ever s-s-struck,” Toby remarked.
”Where were the dogs when he went in?” Max asked.
”Off with us,” replied Owen.
”We got back an hour before noon,” Trapper Jim remarked. ”After lunch we hung around for a while and I fixed all the pelts we brought in.”
”Any mink?” asked Steve, eagerly.
”Yes, one good pelt,” answered Jim. ”Then, about the middle of the afternoon I said we might take a little range around on our own hook and set the bear trap in the bargain, for the old chap had been along the trail to the marsh again.”
”Bully!” exclaimed Steve, who was hard to keep quiet.
”We tied the dogs some little distance away from where we meant to set our bear trap, because they'd want to follow the trail and spoil everything,” Uncle Jim went on.
”And we helped him set her, too,” remarked Bandy-legs, proudly.
”Yes, if we get a bear, it'll be partly yours, boys,” the trapper went on to say. ”After that part of the business had been carried out we started on our hunt. But to tell you the truth, boys, we never saw a thing worth shooting.”
Max suspected that Toby and Bandy-legs made so much noise floundering through the dry leaves that they gave every squirrel and rabbit plenty of warning, so that they could make themselves scarce long before the expedition came along.
But if this was the truth Trapper Jim would not say so. What were a few rabbits or squirrels in comparison with the company of these jolly, interesting boys? The game he had with him all the time, but not so Owen, Toby, and Bandy-legs.
”Then we came home again,” said Owen, taking up the story; ”and it was by the greatest luck ever that Uncle Jim just happened to look in at the open window and discovered the skunk. Just think what might have happened if we'd burst in on the little beast and scared it!”
”And me with only one suit, which is bad enough as it is, having holes burned in it, without having to bury the same,” Bandy-legs remarked.
”Oh,” said Steve, ”you wouldn't have felt it much, for p'r'aps we'd have buried you with your clothes. But, however, are we going to coax him out of there, boys?”
”I move Steve be appointed a committee of one to go and ask our friend the skunk to vacate the ranch,” said Owen.
”A good idea,” added Max. ”Steve, he's got a most convincing way with animals. They take to him on sight.”
”Yes, that five-p.r.o.nged buck did, you're right, Max,” admitted the candidate for fresh honors. ”But I draw the line on skunks.”
”They ain't got a line; Uncle Jim says it's a stripe,” vociferated Bandy-legs.
”But the day's nearly done and we've got to do something about it,”
remarked Trapper Jim. ”Can't one of you think up a way? He acts like he meant to stay in there as long as the feed holds out.”
”Perhaps he's heard the dogs,” suggested Owen. ”We've got them tied up close by, and every little while one gives a yelp.”
”They seem to just know there's something up,” declared Bandy-legs.
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