"That was just what I meant to speak to you about, Obed!" exclaimed Max. "You oughtn't to try to stay here another winter all by yourself. Besides, some unscrupulous men might raid your enclosures while you were off hunting, or fishing, and break up your business. It isn't safe, Obed; and I know from what you said before about suspecting strangers were around here right now, that you're getting anxious yourself."

The boy drew a long breath, and nodded his head. Into his eyes crept a look quite the opposite of that merry gleam usually nestling there. Yes, plainly Obed was worried over something; and Max believed he had put his finger directly on the sore spot when he spoke of a possible raid on the fur product of the singular farm.

"Can you find just such a reliable man as you want, Obed?" asked Steve.

"That part ain't so hard," he was told. "Fact is I've got him more'n half engaged a'ready. His name is Jerry Stocks, and he's a woods guide. Been a heap interested in this game ever since we started up. Fact is, Jerry has done a heap o' things for me from time to time, 'cause yuh see I couldn't work it all. He lives 'bout 'leven miles off that ways. We've fixed a way to signal to each other by flyin' a little white flag from two low peaks. When I want Jerry I run my flag up, and if he's home, why the next day, or mebbe sooner, he shows up. But shucks! that wouldn't keep me from losin' my stock if there was a real raid."

He went on talking further, and the boys picked up considerable more valuable information, for Obed was apparently well posted on the subject, which had occupied his thoughts night and day.

So he told them that perhaps, if all went well, he might take up a companion industry, being nothing more nor less than trying to raise mink or otter in captivity.

"'Course I know it isn't done to any great extent yet," he explained, "but that's no reason there shouldn't be some ready money picked up in the business. It wouldn't pay anything like the foxes, and for that reason I'd go slow about it. Oh! I've got a heap o' ways for gettin' the ready cash to keep up my share o' the expenses o' the farm here. I've found two bee trees, and sent the honey to market too. Got nigh twenty dollars for the honey. Then I dig ginseng roots times when there's nothing else to do. Come over with me and see my frog pond. Last shipment o' big fat saddles brought me a neat little wad o' money, and they don't cost me a cent, if yuh want to know it."

The four boys looked at each other in increased wonderment. What manner of chap was this same Obed, to be able to wrest a living from a bounteous Nature in the clever way he did? Steve in particular was loud in his praise.

"Why, Obed, old fellow," he burst out with, "you're just the same kind of an enterprising chap Max here has always been. Why, it was his grand idea about there being mussels aplenty in the Big Sunflower down our way that started us into making a try for fresh-water pearls in the river. We found 'em, too, some thousands of dollars' worth, of them; and when the news leaked out, whee! the farmers, all around, had a tough time getting their harvests home, because every hand was treading for mussels in the creeks and small rivers for thirty miles around Carson. Why, I bet you it'd be as hard to find a fresh-water clam down our way now as a needle in a haystack; they're all cleaned out. You see, Max here had read about pearls being found out in Indiana and other places, and that gave him the big idea; just like you got set on the fur farm business by reading about it."

They duly inspected the marsh where Obed hunted his big greenback frogs when he thought the crop warranted a thinning out.

"They're always in demand down New York ways, whar they fetch a dollar a pound for the saddles," he explained; "and let me tell yuh it doesn't take a great many o' them to weigh that much. I've got some granddaddy bouncers here that'd make you stare to see 'em; but they don't show up much at this time o' day."

"And how do you get them by the wholesale when you want to market any?" asked Steve. "I've shot many a one with a small Flobert rifle; or else caught them with a piece of red flannel fixed on a small hook, attached by a short cord to a stout pole."

"Well, men in the regular frog-raising business couldn't go about it as slow as that," said the other, "though I have shot a few o' the big uns that way, 'cause they was too tricky to be grabbed with my hand net. If you stay with me a spell we'll get more'n one mess o' frog legs, if yuh likes them."

Bandy-legs was seen to work his lips as though his month fairly watered at the pleasing prospect; for those who are fond of the dish say that frogs' legs are more delicate than the best spring chicken, with just a little taste of fish about them that rather adds to the piquancy.

Having by this time exhausted about all the sights of the wonderful farm the boys headed back again toward the cabin. Max could not but notice that Obed showed signs of uneasiness while away, and cast frequent glances in the direction where under those whispering pines and the dark green hemlocks his lone lodge stood.

Therefore Max was not very much surprised when, as he and Obed strolled along in the rear of the other three, who were chatting, and arguing about certain matters, the young fur farmer pressed his arm confidentially, and went on to say:

"I'd like to tell yuh something, Max, 'cause I own up it's gettin' on my nerves. I thought nothin' could bother me any, but now that the time is so close at hand when I mean tuh sell that pair o' grown pups, and get the money I need so bad, why, things look kinder different. Fact is, Max," he went on, allowing his voice to sink into a mysterious stage whisper, "somebody was lookin' around in my cabin while I was down at your camp last evenin'. I know this because things was more or less upset; and I reckon my comin' back scared the man away, whoever he may have been!"



CHAPTER VIII

PRODUCTS OF THE FUR FARM

"That looks bad, Obed," Max hastened to say, feeling a perceptible thrill at the very thought of being on hand to assist this enterprising boy defend his property, which he had made so valuable, through his own efforts in most part. "I saw a smoke last evening, too, which must have been made by a camp-fire. I wondered if there were deer hunters up here so early; or if some men might be after your foxes. Of course that idea only came to me after you had told us about your enterprise, and how valuable the pelts were."

"It's mighty tough," avowed Obed, between his set teeth, "to be so nigh success, and then face failure. I've been tempted to signal for Jerry to come over and help me stand guard a spell. Yuh see, I ought to be on my way to town with that pair o' nearly-grown young blacks. I know whar I c'n get more for 'em alive than for their pelts if I took the time to cure the same, which I don't want to do. Oh! I've just got to sell 'em, and that's all thar is about it. I've dreamed about the day I'd get that check, and show—er, that lawyer managin' Mr. Coombs' estate that all I told him was true. Once I have the proof that thar's big money in raisin' silver blacks, he's promised to do anything in reason I ask."

Max made up his mind on the spot.

"Look here, Obed," was the way he talked, for Max always believed that it was good policy to "hit the nail directly on the head;" especially when the subject was of considerable importance, "what's to hinder you going off with that pair of live blacks, and disposing of them, while the four of us stay here and run your fur farm for you? It would only take a few days, and we've got the time to spare. Of course you'd have to trust us to the limit, to leave things in our charge; but we'd surely be pleased to help you out. And depend on it, nobody would steal any of the other inmates of the pens while we were on deck. We've got only one gun along, but that is a repeating Marlin, always to be depended on to do its work."

The woods boy was visibly affected by hearing Max say this. He reached for the other's hand and squeezed it almost fiercely.

"Oh! it's kind of you to say that, Max!" he exclaimed, as though the words sprang directly from his heart. "And d'ye know I'm tempted to take you at your word. For I must get those pups delivered as I promised. Everything depends on that deal. The man saw them three months ago, and we made a bargain. I was to deliver the pups to him by the time first snow flew; and it's due any day now, you know."

A singular thing had happened, and Max, while deeply interested in what Obed was saying, could not help but notice that for once the woods boy had spoken without a sign of the rude dialect which up to then had marked his manner of speech. This further aroused the curiosity of Max, who to himself was saying:

"I hit the mark when I guessed Obed was smarter than he let on, and could talk just as well as the next fellow when he chose. He's just fallen into speaking that way through his association with these rough people up here, his own folks likely enough. Or else he likes to pull the wool over our eyes, just for a joke."

Aloud Max continued to reassure the other.

"Then consider it as good as settled, Obed," he said, "that we'll hang around here a short while. If you think best you can get that Jerry to come over, and keep his finger on the pulse. Perhaps it might be wise, too, because he'd know just what to do in case there was any trouble among the foxes left in the pens; and it is all new to us, remember."

"Yuh've relieved my mind a heap, Max, sure yuh have," Obed told him, again relapsing into the vernacular that is usually a part of a woods guide's language. "And tonight I'll set the traps I've got fixed. Mebbe if so be trespassers come a skulkin' around they might git a little surprise. But I'll show yuh what I'm mentionin' later on. Jest now I on'y want to tell yuh I'm mighty glad I dropped into yer camp last evenin' 'stead o' slippin' away, like I fust thought o' doin'."

"But you don't want me to look on this matter as a secret, do you, Obed?"

The other started, Max thought, and looked quickly at him.

"Now what might yuh be meanin' by that, Max?" he presently asked, a bit anxiously.

"Oh! I only wanted to have your permission to tell my three chums what you've been saying to me," explained Max. "Of course I know what their answer will be when I put it up to them. We've really come here on what Bandy-legs calls a wild goose hunt, for there isn't one chance in ten that we'll ever be able to find Roland Chase; so our time is really pretty much our own, to do with as we will. And Obed, all of us have taken such a big interest in your enterprise up here, that we'll be only too happy to lend you a helping hand. You are so near success now that it'd be a shame if you fell down through no fault of your own."

"That's what I keep tellin' myself too, Max, don't you know!" exclaimed the now excited Obed. "I've hugged that hope close to my heart month after month, and now when I c'n almost whiff the success I've prayed for it'd nearly kill me to lose everything. Oh! I jest wants a couple of weeks at the most, and then I'll show 'em, yes, I will. They all said I'd make a dead failure out o' my fur farm; but yuh c'n see it's comin' along right smart."

When they reached the cabin the boys threw themselves down on the soft yielding turf near-by to "loaf" as Bandy-legs properly expressed it; and surely he could do this as well as any boy who ever drew breath.

Max took occasion to tell the others what he and Obed had been talking about. All of them were deeply interested. They looked angrily at each other when Max explained how the woods boy had found traces of some intruder who had actually entered his lone cabin while he, Obed, was away in their company; also telling how the other strongly suspected that a dastardly plot had been hatched, looking to the robbing of the pens connected with the silver fox fur farm.

Obed was inside doing something at the time, and so Max felt that he could talk freely. He meant that his three chums should know everything in the beginning, before he called on them to decide whether they would stay over a few days, and guard the property, while Obed was marketing his first proceeds in a distant city; for the pups were really too valuable to be trusted to the tender mercies of an express company, Obed thought.

"I don't exactly understand how Obed knows that there is a conspiracy hatched up against him, to complete the ruination of his enterprise," continued Max; "but he seems to think some party has a deep grudge against him. It may be we'll know more about this later on; but for the present I've promised Obed I'd put up a proposition to you."

"Then let's hear it, Max!" exclaimed Touch-and-Go Steve, "though I reckon we c'n all give a pretty close guess at what's coming."

"Why, Obed wants to get away with that pair of grown pups, so he can deliver them to the man he's bargained with; and I've proposed that we stay here a few days, and guard his property while he's off. Is there any objection to that plan? I told him I expected I could count on my chums to stick by me."

"I should say you could, Max," chuckled Bandy-legs. "Why, I'm fairly counting on depopulating that big frog marsh while we're hanging around this section. And say, Steve here could keep us supplied with trout galore, if only he fished from the bank, and didn't wade in."

Both the others were equally prompt to agree. Indeed Toby "fell all over himself," as Steve termed it, in his eagerness to give assent; and could only recover after coming to an abrupt halt, taking one of his customary big breaths, and then giving a sharp whistle, after which he finished what he was saying as nicely as anything.

And that settled it, just as Max had been confident would be the case; for he knew his chums too well to believe they would be willing to let such a brave fight be lost when the goal seemed so near. Obed Grimes had proved to be a fellow after their own hearts, and they found themselves deeply interested in his fortunes.

So when the woods boy came out again—Max suspected that he had purposely withdrawn from the scene in order not to embarrass them while making their decision—he was told how they all felt. And Obed went around shaking hands, with the tears in his eyes. Plainly he had his whole heart wrapped up in the successful outcome of this odd venture; and when the clouds began to loom up overhead this proffered assistance on the part of the four chums was gratefully received.

"This is mighty nice o' yuh, boys," he kept telling them, as though really at a loss for appropriate words best calculated to express the state of his feelings; "and I ain't goin' to ever forget it, either. Now I feel that I c'n start out right away, the day after tomorrow, and deliver them pups to Mr. Sheckard. Say, mebbe I won't be a proud boy when he hands me that big check, and I know that I've won out against all odds!"

His eyes glowed at the very thought, and Max was more than glad he and his comrades had the chance to render so resolute a chap slight assistance. For it would really be a pleasure for them to stay there at that wonderful little lodge under the whispering pines, and keep house while Obed was away. Then, too, Jerry would be on hand, ready with his advice and knowledge, so as to do the proper thing. As to any rash prowler stealing the valuable foxes, day or night, well, they would see to it a constant watch was kept, and that the gun was always ready to block any nasty little game like that.

Later on, Max amused himself lolling in Mr. Coombs' big fireside chair, which he had moved near one of the windows. He had run across a number of books on a shelf, and was engaged in looking them over, though hardly bothering to actually read. Nevertheless, he seemed to be quite curious concerning them, and when Obed chanced to come in, Max naturally asked concerning the volumes.

"Oh! yuh see, some o' them belong to me," the woods boy remarked, without hesitation, "and t'others they were left here by Mr. Coombs. He was a great reader; and besides, he'd traveled all over the known world. Yuh remember I said he was a sea captain, and that he made his fortune carryin' cargoes from the Far East to England and America. Sometime I'll tell yuh a few of the queer adventures he had in foreign countries. They've got lots o' thrills about 'em, too."

"Just so," ventured Max, casually, "and I once heard some people talking about a Mr. Coombs who had been a great traveler. Now I wonder if it could have been the same party. Was his first name Robert?"

"Oh! no, my Mr. Coombs' name was Jared," replied the other, promptly.

"Then, of course, it could not have been the same," added Max, smiling as though he had attained the object of his questioning; "but the similarity in names, and the fact that both men had traveled considerably, made me think it might, be so."

He once more dipped into the book he was holding, although watching Obed slily over the top of the volume. And when the woods boy had passed outside again, Max Hastings might have been seen to hurriedly turn back to the blank pages at the front of the book, scan several initials that were plainly written there, and then nod his head mysteriously, with a smile that gradually crept across his whole face; just as though something pleased him, which, for the time being, he chose to keep to himself.



CHAPTER IX

LAYING PLANS TO HELP OBED

It was only natural that Steve, always headstrong and impulsive, should be eager to find out what kind of plan might be arranged looking to keeping watch and ward over the fur farm during the nights to come. He had been impressed with the signs of anxiety which Obed plainly betrayed, when speaking of his belief concerning some sort of plot being hatched up against his peace of mind, and which would bring about the ultimate ruination of his unique and intensely interesting undertaking.

To Steve, the idea of a miserable rascal sneaking up in the night to destroy all that poor hardworking Obed had built up after many moons, was simply terrible. The more he considered it the greater became his secret anger; and of course this meant that his liking for the boy fur farmer grew in proportion.

During the afternoon, as the shadows began to lengthen perceptibly, Steve found occasion to broach the subject to his three chums. Max had come out of the cabin; evidently he had tired of looking over the books, which might do very well to pass away a long evening, or a rainy day when time dragged, but could not chain him down long when the sun was shining, the breeze rustling through the many-colored leaves still on the trees, and with all Nature beckoning.

So Steve crooked his finger toward Bandy-legs and Toby, lounging near by; and being in a humor themselves for any sort of thing, the pair hastened to join him. And Max, upon being pounced upon by the balance of the crowd, looked askance, knowing that something was in the wind.

"Strikes me, fellows," commenced Steve, "that We ought to be figuring on what we expect to do tonight."

"Huh! as for me," quickly responded Bandy-legs, "I'm expecting to do my share about slingin' together a dandy spread, with some of the fine grub we fetched along. This mountain air is something terrible when it comes to toning up jaded appetites. I feel as if I had a vacuum down about my middle all the time. I'm beginning to be alarmed about my condition. If it keeps on it's going to mean bankruptcy for my folks, that's all."

"About me, now," added Toby Jucklin, briskly, "I'm hoping to g-g-get a b-b-bully g-g-good sleep tonight; unless Max fixes it so we have to t-t-take t-t-turns standing sentry duty."

Steve looked disgusted.

"Oh! rats! I didn't mean anything like that, and you both know it," he told the two grinning chums. "What I was referring to was on the point of duty. We've agreed to stand back of our new friend, Obed, and see to it that he isn't robbed of the proceeds of his industry by unscrupulous scoundrels; and we've got to make good!"

"Hear! hear!" ejaculated Toby, pretending to clap his hands in applause.

"Steve, you're exhausting all the big words in the dictionary, with your high-flown language," warned Bandy-legs in mock severity. "But I get your meaning, all the same, and I also agree with your noble sentiments. Sure we're expecting to stand up for Obed and his pets; and we're likewise intending to make it hot for any old terrapin who comes creeping around here with the idea of making way with the wearers of that expensive fur. How about it, Max?"

"That's a settled thing," readily replied the one appealed to, and whose opinion, it was plain to be seen, would swing things one way or another, since the other fellows were in the habit of looking up to Max as their leader. "We can fix it up in regular orthodox style, each fellow having two hours on duty, and the rest of the night for sleep. Does that strike you as about right?"

"Well," remarked Steve, proudly, "it won't be the first occasion when this bunch has had to stand guard, not by a long sight. I can look back and see many a night when we had to keep an anchor to windward, or else lose something we prized a heap. Ever since we dug up all those mussels in the Big Sunflower, and found dandy pearls inside some of them, it seems to me we've had occasion from time to time to be envied by other people, and had to keep watch so we wouldn't be robbed. Oh! standing sentry is an old trick with us!"

"For my p-p-part," remarked Toby, yawning as he spoke, "I'd much rather think up some g-g-good s-s-scheme that would ease the s-s-strain, and allow us to s-s-sleep through the entire night."

"Please explain what you mean by saying that, Toby," demanded Steve; "you do get off the most mysterious communications sometimes, and muddle us all up."

"But there isn't anything q-q-queer about this, Steve," protested Toby. "All of you know I've been a g-g-great h-h-hand to make m-m-machinery take the place of h-h-hand power. What's the need of our s-s-staying awake p-p-part of the night, even, if by cudgeling our brains we c-c-could think up some g-g-good s-s-scheme that would answer the same purpose?"

"I can see you cudgeling your poor brains, all right, Toby," sneered Steve, who apparently did not take a great deal of stock in the other's ability for conceiving clever ideas: "and a pretty mess you'd make of it, in the bargain. Take it from me, they're cudgeled enough as it is."

"That will do for you, Steve," said Max. "I understand just what Toby means, and it's along the right line too. This is the age of progress, and up-to-date people don't want to depend on the old-time methods that were good enough for their grandfathers. Toby thinks one of us might suggest a scheme whereby we could guard the fox farm, and at the same time obtain our full quota of sleep. In other words, rig up a dummy to stand our trick as sentry. Isn't that it, Toby?"

"J-j-just what I had in my mind, Max," snapped Toby; "and any silly c-c-could easy see that."

"Sure, and the wise ones had to be told," chirped Steve, jauntily. "But never mind arguing, Toby; it's all right, and I'm only joking. I get the idea; and now, has any one a scheme on tap that would apply to the case?"

Toby scratched his head as though he considered that, having been the first to make the suggestion, it was up to him to say something, no matter how.

"Well, there's the spring-gun trap, you know," he remarked, without once stuttering, which fact proved that he was deliberately taking his time about answering.

"What sort of arrangement do you call that, I'd like to know!" asked Steve.

"S-s-say, you a hunter, and never heard about the s-s-spring-gun trap?" exclaimed Toby, scornfully. "Well, I'll try to explain, if you give me a little t-t-time, and don't r-r-rush me too much. You see, a gun is f-f-fastened to the ground, and aiming along a certain avenue that the intended thief has just g-g-got to use in c-c-coming up to the b-b-bait. Then a c-c-cord is s-s-strung so the thief p-p-presses against the s-s-same, just like Max here fixes his c-c-camera nights, when he wants to s-s-snap off a skunk or a 'coon by flashlight. Well, the g-g-gun goes off, and f-f-fills Mister Thief with number twelve birdshot. When you hear the c-c-crash, and his howls, why, you just s-s-saunter out and f-f-fetch in the s-s-spoils. There, do you understand about the s-s-spring-gun trap now, Steve?"

"Oh! I knew all that before, only you mixed me up by giving it that name," the other hastily replied. "But it strikes me that'd be a pretty rough deal for us to play. It might answer if the thief were an animal, but a human being is different."

"All the same," retorted Toby, savagely, "he's a t-t-thief, and outside the p-p-pale of the law."

"Just so," Steve went on, and Max was surprised at his moderation, because, as a rule, Steve had always been the most reckless one of the crowd; "but suppose now we found that we'd done more than we calculated on, Toby? A charge of small birdshot starts out on its errand a whole lot like a bullet. It doesn't commence to scatter till it gets just so far away from the muzzle of the gun; depending on the size of the bore, and the way the barrel is choked. I've known a charge of shot to tear a hole right through a board when fired at close range. At a distance it would only have scattered out, and peppered the whole fence. And, Toby, we might feel rather bad if we found we'd killed a man, even if he was a thief!"

Toby did not answer to that fling. The truth of the matter was he shivered at the gruesome picture Steve's words drew before his mental vision; for Toby was not at all bloodthirsty.

Max now took a hand in the conversation.

"Listen, fellows," he went on to say, "it strikes me that when we set about discussing this matter, we ought to remember that there's one chap who's considerably more interested in the outcome than any of us can ever be."

"'Course you mean Obed when you say that, Max?" ventured Bandy-legs.

"He's the one," the other admitted. "And we ought to invite him to join us in figuring out our plans. Now, it may be Obed will have a scheme of his own that'd knock any we might think up all silly. I'll call him over, and tell him what we're trying to arrange."

It happened that just then Obed was passing on his way to the cabin. He had been working somewhere amidst his enclosures, perhaps making certain preparations for insuring the safety of his valuable furry pets, should a descent on the farm come about during the hours of darkness.

Obed hastened to join them. His questioning look influenced Max to explain without hesitation; and the woods boy smiled broadly when he heard how his new-found friends were already taking so decided an interest in his fortunes.

"Now, it might be," he started to say, again looking serious, "that all this fuss ain't worth the candle, and that nothin' 's going to happen; but I believe in shuttin' the door before the hoss is stolen; it's too late afterwards. I haven't got the time right now to tell yuh jest how I learned that my foxes was agoin' tuh be in danger; somebody I knew wrote me a letter, and warned me, which'll have tuh be enuff jest now tuh explain. Since I got that same, three days back, I've been figgerin' on how I could fix up a trap tuh ketch any two-legged varmint that chanced tuh come sneakin' around here of a night. Well, I got one er two tricks rigged up that might fill the bill."

"Of course you mean to show them to us, Obed?" Steve burst out with; "for if you didn't, and we were left in charge here, one of us might fall into the pit, and get knocked out, which would be tough luck, I'm thinking."

"Oh! I meant to show you, Steve," asserted the fur farmer, quickly. "And if so be yuh'll come along with me right now, we'll take a look at the contraptions, which, of course, yuh understand, are only meant for night-times, and tuh help out when Jerry wouldn't be around for me to sorter lean on."

Being boys who did things themselves, it was only natural that the four chums should feel a decided interest in what Obed had just said. Even Max showed an eagerness to go forth and examine the said traps. He could speculate as to what their character might turn out to be, but this only added a little more spice to the occasion.

So when Obed turned and started off, with a beckoning finger that enticed them to follow his lead, none of the quartette held back.



CHAPTER X

TRAPS FOB NIGHT PROWLERS

"Yuh see," remarked Obed, turning around as they drew near the first enclosure, where the parent foxes were confined behind the wire fencing, "I've just been adding a few finishing touches tuh this here trap scheme. I got a little idea while I was alookin' the ground over, and reckoned I could fix it up so there'd be a heap right good chance that a feller creeping around here o' a night would step into the contraption. I'll show yuh how I 'ranged it."

With that he led the way along a plain trail that seemed to be the easiest route up to the enclosure. Three times out of four a stranger, prowling around with meagre light to guide him, would be apt to follow that beaten track; and this was evidently what the shrewd Obed was counting on.

"Well, it's this way my little scheme is agoin' to work," he explained, after reaching a certain point. "See this rope—I throw it across a limb o' this tree. Yuh notice that it's got an easy runnin' slip-noose at the end, don't yuh? That I'm fixing right here, where there's a good chance the thief will put his foot in it as he takes this step I'm showing you."

He proved that he was right, and indeed it was really a difficult thing, after Obed had placed the noose just as he wanted it, close to the ground, and on little wooden crotches he had arranged there for the purpose, for any one to step across without getting his foot entangled in the rope.

"Well, let's reckon, then, he does get caught in the noose, and jerks it tight around his ankle," continued Obed, very much interested himself in what he was saying, and as Max quickly noticed, even neglecting to speak as he usually did, although he had shown this odd trait before. "What happens? I'll show you how it's going to work out, if everything runs as I've planned."

Accordingly, he picked up a heavy piece of wood that chanced to be lying close by, and which doubtless Obed had used before in order to test the accuracy of his figuring. This he inserted in the noose, and then gave it a hunch that not only tightened the rope but carried out the further purpose of the inventor.

Instantly things began to happen. The boys heard a queer rattling sound near by, and immediately the wooden "dummy" was jerked out of Obed's hands, to be drawn up until it struck against the limb of the tree fully ten feet above. Steve gave a whoop.

"My stars! but that worked like a charm, Obed, let me tell you. Greased lightning could hardly be quicker than the way you've arranged your trap. And what was all that rattling sound about? What's holding on to the other end of the rope, which pulled the log up on the run? I want to know, even if I ain't from Missouri."

The woods boy laughed as though quite pleased because his trap had worked well enough to call forth such words of praise from these new friends.

"Come over and see," he simply said.

They followed the line of rope, now taut, and resembling a huge "fiddle string," as Bandy-legs remarked, testing it as he passed along. It led them to the brow of an abrupt little descent, a sheer drop of perhaps twenty feet. Down this slope they followed the rope with their eyes and then discovered it was attached to a large and heavy barrel that could almost be called a hogshead, evidently something which had been used as a crate to convey a portion of the previous owner of the cabin's crockery ware thither when he moved up from town.

As the boys were no simpletons, they readily grasped the essential qualities of Obed's little scheme. It may have been original with him; and then again possibly he had borrowed the same from some book he had read; but, nevertheless, it struck them as pretty clever.

Not content with the heaviness of the big barrel, he had placed a number of stones inside so as to add to the swiftness of its flight down that declivity, once it was released. The rope acted as "starter," and upon being jerked, as must be the case, should any one get a foot caught in the noose, it released a stake that kept the heavy barrel poised there at the top of the descent. The consequence was that it would plunge downward almost as though making a sheer drop; the noose tightening about the leg or legs of the unhappy wight who had sprung the trap, he would be jerked off his feet and hauled up, head downward, to dangle there in midair, as helpless as a babe.

"Set it again, and let me try the trick, please, Obed," pleaded Steve, who seemed to be particularly charmed with the arrangement.

"I will if yuh help me git the barrel back up the hill again," replied the other. "Workin' all by myself I've had tuh take the rocks out each time before I could push the old thing back again tuh the top, 'cause she's some heavy, believe me."

Steve, yes, and both Bandy-legs and Toby also, hastened to comply with this reasonable request; and between them all the heavy barrel was slowly pushed up again until the stake held it poised there on the top of the sharp declivity.

Max stood and watched operations, not that he was unwilling to lend a hand also if necessary; but just then he wanted to observe Obed, and draw certain conclusions in which he, Max, seemed to take considerable interest.

Then Steve was given the wooden "dummy" which had worked so like a charm, and instructed how to manage it, so that it would take the place of a man's lower extremities. Steve did so well that he, too, by a little jerk displaced the delicately arranged "trigger" as Obed called the stake, and caused the barrel to pitch furiously down the steep slope.

Steve had not been quite quick enough to snatch his hands away, after working the trick. The consequence was that when the billet of wood was plucked from his grasp with such swiftness, and drawn instantly aloft, Steve staggered, and might have fallen only that Obed clutched hold of him.

"Wow! did you see that?" gasped Steve, staring upwards at the dangling "dummy" as though he could easily imagine it a kicking, squirming human figure. "And say, it worked as fine as silk, didn't it? Obed, you've done yourself proud with this little game. If that thief ever gets a foot in your slip-noose his goose will be cooked, that's as plain as dirt."

He actually seemed to be very proud of the fact that he had acted as master of ceremonies, and set the trap off so successfully. Nothing would do but that Bandy-legs and Toby Jucklin in addition should be given the same distinction; so twice more was the barrel rolled up the slope, and on both occasions it worked to a charm.

"It seems to be next door to perfect, for a fact," asserted Max, upon being appealed to for his opinion; but he did not seem to "hanker" after trying it out on his own account.

Finally the weighted barrel was again pushed up to its appointed position and held there with the stake. When the proper time came, it would be easy for the inventor to arrange the slip-noose, and set the trap.

"What, is there anything more to be shown?" asked Steve, when Obed asked them to follow him a little further.

A few minutes later and they were gravely examining an odd arrangement which consisted for the most part of a very heavy log. Steve looked it over critically, and then ventured to give his opinion:

"Looks a whole lot like a deadfall trap, such as they use in most places to get bears in," he went on to say.

Obed chuckled as though pleased at the answer to his look of inquiry.

"Just what it is built on the pattern of, Steve, if yuh want to know it," he admitted. "The only difference is that in the regular deadfall the log comes down and smashes the poor bear by its sheer weight. Now, I've tried to rig my trap up so it'll simply make a prisoner o' the creeper. I'll show yuh just how it works. I've got a dummy here, too, that I use to test things. Yuh see there's always just a little chance it might go wrong; and I don't want to get caught, and made a prisoner, with nobody around to let me loose."

With that he demonstrated his idea. The trap was sprung just as he meant it should be, and if the dummy had really been a man, he would have found himself caught tightly in the log trap, with but a poor chance of ever getting out again, unless external assistance came along.

"Any more tricks like these two up your sleeve, Obed?" asked Steve, after they had further examined the deadfall, and Max had pronounced it skillfully constructed.

"Well, I'm afraid I reached the end o' my rope when I hatched up this second idea, Steve," the other remarked, in a sort of apologetic tone. "Of course I might think up a few more if I reckoned it'd be necessary. But I've got a hunch that one o' the lot is agoin' tuh grab that thief, providin' he does come around here. Besides, when yuh git right down to brass tacks, thar isn't as much danger o' my bein' robbed in the night-time, as in the day."

"And why not, Obed?" further asked Steve; "I'd think that was the very time you'd feel scariest, when it was dark, and you couldn't see if anybody was prowling around the farm."

"Stop an' think how foxes have holes in the ground, into which they c'n burrow when scared the least mite," explained Obed, readily, "and yuh'll see how hard it'd be for a stranger to lay hands on them. Now, in the daytime, if they came along, with me away from the place, a man with a rifle could knock over my pets as easy as turnin' his hand. But, all the same, I've fixed my traps. For one thing I'd like to find out jest who the thief is."

Max noticed what emphasis he put on that last remark. He could see the customary twinkle in Obed's eyes give way to a sterner look; as though he had brooded more or less over this same subject. And Max himself nodded his head as though he might in a measure understand just how Obed felt.

So they returned to the house. Bandy-legs at least rejoiced because with all those clever contraptions set, and waiting to give the intended thief a warm reception, it did seem as though there would be hardly any necessity for them to waste their precious time in sitting up and keeping watch, when they would be so much better off enjoying "balmy sleep," as he called it; and all sleep was along that order, according to the mind of Bandy-legs.

Max and Steve trailed along well in the rear. This may have simply happened, but Steve twice stopped the other, and pointed out something he wished Max to see; so possibly the delay was intentional on his part. At least, he presently made a remark that would make it seem so.

"It certainly looks as if Obed was a pretty ingenious maker of snares, that's sure, Max?" Steve was saying, significantly.

"That's right, he is, Steve, and we must give him great credit for it, even if his traps fail to catch a thief in the act."

"I was just thinking, Max," pursued the other, meditatively, "that it's evident this same Obed must have inherited that strain from a long line of trapper ancestors or progenitors; wouldn't you think so, too?"

Max looked at his companion queerly, and smiled as he made reply.

"You may be right, Steve, of course, but it strikes me Obed has an original streak of genius all his own, which doesn't have to depend on any inherited trait. Things are not always what they seem in this world, you know."

"Lookey here, Max, you've struck a scent which you don't think best to share with your boon companions, that's as plain to me as two and two make four. You've come to think a little the same way as Bandy-legs, perhaps, and suspect Obed of being more than he lets on? Is that it, Max? Do you really believe he's playing some sly trick on us? Is that yarn about Mr. Coombs all moonshine? Does this fur farm belong to some company, that Obed is working for? I wish you'd tell me what you've got in your mind, Max."

"I expect to a little later on, Steve, never fear," he was assured. "I'm not more than half certain even now that it can be so, and I never like to make a mess of things. Besides, you know, it wouldn't be just fair to Obed to have us all suspecting him of playing tricks. Just go on as you've been doing. Take my word for it, this new friend we've made is all to the good, and will never turn out to be the wrong sort of fellow."

He started on after saying this, and Steve followed, looking very much puzzled, and shaking his head as though he could not catch the right idea. Shortly afterwards, however, Steve had apparently forgotten his newly awakened suspicions, for he was entering into the general conversation as heartily as ever. Still, Max noticed, with amusement, that from time to time Steve would follow Obed hungrily with his eyes, and on such occasions that double line of wrinkles, expressive of bewilderment, might again be seen upon the boy's forehead.

Toby and Bandy-legs were only too glad to take the preparation of supper into their hands completely. They felt a certain amount of pride in their culinary skill, and wished to show their host the full list of their accomplishments as camp cooks. Besides, they believed that among their abundant stores they carried a number of things which Obed failed to possess; and of course a new dish was apt to be a pleasant surprise to the woods boy.

The supper thus concocted and carried out was certainly a genuine triumph. Steve openly congratulated the two efficient cooks on their "masterly skill"; though Max laughingly warned the others to "beware of the Greeks bearing gifts," for there might be a base motive hiding behind all that glib praise. Steve protested that he meant every word of it; but then it was well known that Steve hated to do any cooking himself, and hence was fain to laud the efforts of others in that line, doubtless in the hope of encouraging them to "keep right on doing it."

After the bountiful meal had been enjoyed, and every one declared that it would be utterly impossible to eat another single bite, for fear of the consequences, they spent a very enjoyable evening alongside the fire that burned on the hearth, at one end of the cabin.

Obed, as he had promised, told them some of the strange things he had heard from the old sea captain, who, during his life on the Seven Seas, had met with many most remarkable adventures well worth repeating.

Obed addressed them in his own language, and Max often smiled as though some of the quaint expressions used by the young narrator amused him; though perhaps there may have been still another reason for his quiet chuckling. Steve caught him at it several times, and eyed the other in perplexity, as though he suspected Max of adding secretly to his fund of knowledge, which thus far he obstinately declined to share with his mates.

Later on, when they began to feel sleepy, Obed said he would go out and make sure his traps were set right. Max offered to keep him company, and together they sauntered forth, to be followed with a wistful look from the envious Steve, who was muttering to himself:

"I wish I knew what Max has got in that mind of his right now. I'm dead certain he's figuring out some sort of thing that's going to give the rest of us a big surprise, when he sees fit to spring it on us; but for the life of me I can't guess what it can be. Oh! shucks! what's the use of bothering any more about it? If it turns out worth while, Max will tell us in good time; and if he's on the wrong scent, why, he'll just drop the game, and no harm done."

After a while the others came in again, saying both traps were set, and there did not seem to be any need of their losing sleep on account of possible unwelcome visitors. Obed showed how the concealed bunks could be made ready, and, all of them were loud in their expressions of satisfaction over having such comfortable lodgings for the night. They mentally blessed the memory of the said Mr. Coombs, whose forethought and inventive ingenuity had planned all these wonderful adjuncts of the little forest lodge.

In due time they crept into their several berths just as if aboard ship; and after that several of the fellows did not know a single thing until they were rudely aroused, perhaps some hours later on. The last thing Steve remembered hearing as he rolled himself up in his blanket was the crackle of the fire, the mournful sighing of the wind through the tops of the whispering pines, and then the distant call of an owl to its mate.

He awoke with a suddenness that caused him to sit up, and consequently crack his head against the boards above his bunk. The blow almost knocked Steve back again as he had been before, and must have hurt considerably; but he ignored this fact just then, because from without there were coming loud yells of fright in a man's voice.



CHAPTER XI

A TREE THAT BORE STRANGE FRUIT

"Max—Obed, we've got something!" almost shrieked Steve, as he now tumbled out of his odd bunk very much after the fashion of a dislodged log, landing with a bump on the floor.

And Steve was not alone in his circus stunt, for several other fellows were making a hasty and undignified exit at the same time, Bandy-legs and Toby Jucklin, for instance. Max somehow managed to get on his feet without so much scrambling; and as for Obed, as he had been sleeping on the cot closer to the fire, they could already see him hastily pulling on some clothes.

"Get dressed, and in a hurry!" cried Max, suiting his actions to the words.

"Oh! listen to him whoop it up, will you?" exclaimed Bandy-legs, as those loud calls still smote the night air, and in a way that covered the whole gamut of human utterance.

Toby wanted to say something, too, but though his jaws worked, no audible sound came forth to explain the agitated state of his mind. They had luckily prepared for such a sudden call, and had their outer clothes handy, so that in an incredibly brief space of time all of the boys managed to get something on.

Then Steve snatched up his Marlin gun. Obed had already done the same with his rifle, so that when the latter flung wide the door and they trooped forth, they were in a condition to do battle if necessary, and at least strike terror into the heart of any skulking marauder.

Max, wise general that he was, had thought of something very essential to their success. This was nothing more or less than a lantern. They had been thoughtful enough to fetch one along, a clever little contraption that took only a small amount of room, and yet afforded considerable light. Besides, Obed possessed a lantern of the ordinary type, together with a plentiful supply of oil, looking to the long winter evenings when he might want to read in order to pass away some of the spare time, that promised to drag heavily on his hands.

So they poured forth. The cries still continued, and as vociferous as ever. Indeed, if anything, there was a wilder strain to them now, as though the fellow who gave utterance to the shouts might be getting sorely alarmed at his strange condition, and feared the worst.

There was no trouble about deciding which way to go. Even if they did not have Obed to serve as guide, and pilot the expedition, they could easily have followed the loud notes of alarm.

Everybody was more or less excited, from Obed down to Max himself, and small wonder when the fact of their being aroused in the dead of the night by this fierce racket is taken into consideration.

Hastening in this manner toward the spot where the first trap had been set, they speedily discovered that the overhanging tree bore strange fruit. Something grotesque was swinging violently back and forth. It was a human figure, but hardly recognizable as such, on account of the fact that it now hung head downward, with one leg firmly gripped by the tenacious slip-noose, and the other, together with a pair of wildly flung arms, cutting all sorts of eccentric circles through the air.

Never in all their varied experiences had Max and his three comrades looked on a more remarkable spectacle than the one by which they were now greeted. The man's face could not be plainly seen on account of his coat sagging down partly over his head, so they could not immediately tell what he looked like; but he certainly possessed a bull-like voice that, properly trained for opera use might have won him a fair amount of fame and money, for it was more than usually lusty.

He seemed to divine the fact that those in the cabin must have rushed out in answer to his shouts. Perhaps he detected the light they carried with them; or it might be Steve's loud cries caught his strained hearing at such times as his own breath temporarily failed him.

"Help me, somebody, why don't yuh? I'm strangling to death, I tell yuh. All the blood's running to my head! I'm seeing a million stars already, and I'll die if yuh don't cut me down. Hurry! hurry, please do, somebody!"

Obed looked to Max to say what ought to be done, for already he seemed to have come under the magical sway of the other's leadership.

"Take hold of him, and tie his hands behind his back before you think to let him down!" was the sensible advice given by Max.

Thereupon Obed instantly produced some heavy cord and started operations. While the boy deftly worked, the man continued to plead, trying to claw at him also; but Obed managed to get his job completed notwithstanding the interruptions. He was at the same time telling the unfortunate man to keep quiet, and he would be let down presently.

Steve stood by, gun in hand. He was casting uneasy looks around as though suspecting that if the fellow had companions near by, as seemed likely, and they should, recovering from, their alarm attempt his rescue, it might be his duty to stand them off one and collectively.

Bandy-legs and Toby sprang to where the man dangled. Max was already at the side of Obed.

"All ready, Obed?" he was heard to say.

"I've spliced his hands up in good style, Max," came the reply.

"Good enough. Now, Toby and Bandy-legs, take hold of him, and lift when I give you the word. I'll slip the rope off his ankle, and you turn him right side up. Now, go to it, both of you—yo-heave-o!"

It was quickly done, and the man, upon finding himself placed once more on his feet, staggered; indeed, he was so "groggy" after his recent strange experience at swimming in thin air, that only for the supporting arm of Max he would have fallen flat.

The latter allowed him to stagger backward until he leaned against the body of the tree under which the novel man-trap had been arranged. He was breathing hard, but seemed to be recovering from his panic; at least his cries had utterly ceased, which was one good thing.

So Max flashed the light into his face, while Obed leaned forward and eagerly stared hard at him. They saw rough lineaments, seamed and hardened by exposure to the elements; but of course the face was that of an utter stranger to Max. As for Obed, he was heard to give a sigh of disappointment, as though he too had failed to recognize any one whom he had reason to know.

The man by now seemed to have recovered in part. He was looking at the boys in a peculiar way; Max could not decide on the spur of the moment whether it was wonder or shrewdness that he saw there as the predominant trait of the man's features. But at any rate, since he had recovered his breath to some extent, he should be capable of speaking, and explaining how it came about he found himself in such a predicament.

"Well, who are you, anyway?" demanded Max, throwing as much sternness into his voice as he could. "Give an account of yourself, and tell us why you were creeping about here like a thief in the night?"

"What! me a thief?" shrilled the man, as though, again excited by the very idea of such a base accusation; "I never had that name, young feller. Them that knows Jake Storms say he's an honest man, if ever there was one. I'm only a guide, and a trapper, but nobody ever yet caught me thievin' or poachin', I'd have yuh know."

"Where's your home, Jake Storms?" continued Max.

"If yuh mean whar do I hang out, it's this way," explained the other. "Last summer I was up at Paul Smith's place, workin' for the hotel. I heard some tall stories about the country around old Mount Tom, how full of fur animals it was, and so I made up my mind to spend the winter hereabouts. I built me a cabin away up on the other side of the mountain, and was agoin' to start settin' my traps when I got word that a gentleman wanted me to come down to Lathrop and git him. Yuh see, his doctor advised that he spend the winter in the mountains, and he thought of me, beca'se we'd been in the woods a heap of times in past years. So I was headin' for Lathrop by a trail I'd run across that took around the mountain, and meanin' to keep on as long as I could durin' the night, when all at once something flew up and hit me ker-slap! Say, I thought it was an earthquake, sure I did. And then I found myself hangin' upside down, with all the blood runnin' into my head. What's it mean, young fellers; I give yuh my word I don't get the hang o' it at all."

Max was not surprised to hear the man speak in this fashion. He had already made up his mind, after that one good look at the other's face, the prisoner of the barrel trap was a pretty "slick article," as Steve would have expressed it. And caught in the act, as he had been, it was to be expected that the fellow would have some kind of reasonable story to spin, in order to explain his presence there.

All the same, Max did not give the yarn the least credence. Something told him the other was deliberately lying, and the fluency with which he delivered that remarkable story announced the self-named Jake Storms an accomplished fakir, if ever there was one.

So Max, while not wishing to deliberately tell the man to his face that he was a prevaricator, set about catching him in a little trap. The others had also heard the explanation given, and were listening, with puzzled looks on their faces; at least Bandy-legs and Steve and Toby were, but Obed was shaking his head energetically, as though he put no faith in fairy tales; especially when coming from such unworthy lips.

"You said you were all alone, didn't you?" demanded Max.

"Why, yes, 'course I was," spluttered the other, uneasily eying the speaker, who was holding his light so that it shone directly on Jake's still flushed face.

"Then what did you shout so loud for, if you didn't expect any one to come to your assistance?" continued Max.

"Oh! say, yuh see, 'course I knowed thar was somebody around. I'd just discovered signs of a camp, and sniffed smoke. But before I had half a chance to make out what it meant, why something grabbed me by the leg, and threw me up like I was agoin' over the treetops. Who wouldn't a yelled, tell me? I own up I was rattled like everything. Anybody would be, wouldn't they? I couldn't understand it all; and right now I'm still agropin' in the dark. What struck me, and why does ye set such traps in the trail over on this side o' Mount Tom? Ain't the woods free for anybody to walk in? What have I ever done to any o' yuh to be treated like this, and have my head nigh jerked from my body. Tell me that, sonny?"

Max did not answer his question. While the explanation might seem to be fairly plausible, he felt positive the man was telling a downright lie; and Max believed he knew an easy way to prove it.

"Watch him, Obed, Steve!" he said to those who were alongside.

"Never fear about that, Max," snapped out Steve; "I've got him covered with my gun, and if he tries any slick game his name will be Dennis, and not Jake. Hear that, Mr. Fur Thief, do you? Well, mind how you tempt me to let fly with a charge of birdshot. I've got a quick temper, and a quicker finger in the bargain; so settle back where you are."

The man muttered between his set teeth. He was evidently feeling far from comfortable, because something told him these wideawake lads would not be so easily hoodwinked as he had fancied.

He was watching the movements of Max Hastings, who had dropped to his hands and knees, and seemed to be holding his little lantern so that the light would show him the nature of the ground. Truth to tell, Max and Obed, when last at the trap, had taken the pains to smooth the ground over, thus obliterating all previous footprints. This was done from a double object; it would conceal the fact that work had been carried on in that particular spot, in case sharp eyes were on the alert; and also gave a clear field for observation, as was happening just then.

Max quickly found what he was looking for.

"Come here, Obed," he remarked, quietly, and as the other eagerly bent over, Max went on to say: "You can see that here's another footprint, and quite different from the one made by his heavier boots. So he did have at least one companion along, perhaps two, for all we know. And that stamps his story a yarn made out of whole cloth. He came here, just as you expected, to rob you of your foxes. Killing them wouldn't have filled the bill so well, unless they made off with the pelts in the bargain. How about it, Obed?"

"Every word you say is true, Max," breathed the other, indignantly.

"Then we'll certainly not let him go free, that's a dead sure proposition," ventured Max, decidedly, and in a voice that he meant should reach the prisoner.

"Glad to hear you settle it that way, boys," remarked Steve, who had kept one eye on the prisoner and the other in the direction of his mates. "Shall I march him over to the cabin right away?"

Max gave a look around. He wondered where that other man could be just then, and whether he was watching them from some neighboring covert, having by degrees recovered from the near panic into which he had been thrown at the time his companion was snatched away from his side so mysteriously, amidst a tremendous din, caused by the shouts of the seized man, and the rattling of the stones inside the rolling barrel.

But he could see nothing. The little lantern only covered a certain amount of space with its meagre illumination, and much that was evil might lurk beyond the radius of its lighted circle.

"Yes, we'll change our base, and go back to the cabin," Max said aloud; "keep the guns ready for business, and if an attack is made shoot straight!"

Of course this admonition was delivered in a loud tone, mostly to warn the unseen party, who might be hovering near; but both gun-bearers gave evidence of meaning to profit by the advice.



CHAPTER XII

THE TAPS ON THE CABIN WALL

Once more they were inside the cabin. Obed was looking at the man again as though he believed the other was possessed of certain information which he hoped to obtain in turn. Max, too, was observing all these things with considerable interest, if the smile that appeared on his face from time to time signified anything. But he was studying Obed even more than he seemed to pay attention to the man they had found turned upside down in the tree.

"Well, one of your clever traps worked like a charm, Obed," Steve was saying, and doubtless meaning to compliment the fur farmer. "But now that they know we're on to their being around, it's hardly likely we'll catch another victim tonight. All the same something ought to be done to protect the fox pack."

"That's easily arranged," remarked Max, "we'll follow out the plan we talked over. Two had better stand guard at a time, and for several hours. They can be relieved by another couple, and in this way the balance of the night will be passed over. Those on duty are to carry the guns; and with orders to challenge any moving thing that comes along."

The man had made no resistance when ordered to fall in line and accompany his captors to the cabin under the pines. Once inside, he had glanced casually around, but Max noticed that he did not seem greatly interested. From this he guessed that perhaps the other may have seen the interior of the lodge before; Max remembered Obed telling them that some one had certainly been prowling about in his cabin at the time he was away, though evidently frightened off by his return before having a chance to do any damage.

"He isn't looking at these things, so strange to an ordinary cabin in the woods, for the first time," was what Max was telling himself; and consequently his heart hardened toward the fellow.

Having previously arranged all about signals that could be given in case of necessity, there was now little more to be said. Of course Steve had to be counted on as one of the pair to be first placed on duty; he would have been mortally offended had Max failed to honor him with this exhibition of trust. Then Bandy-legs offered to share his vigil, and Steve eagerly accepted the proposal.

"Take Obed's gun, Bandy-legs," said Max; "and remember what I told you about using it. Shoot low, so as to fill their legs full of lead, if you have to fire at all. And listen to our shouts as we join you, for we don't want a warm reception from our friends. Get that, both of you?"

Steve and his fellow sentry admitted that they understood what their directions were to be. Then they went out. The man had been intently watching all these things as though deeply interested. Since Max had found the second series of footprints, and thus proved the falsity of his claim of being alone, Jake Storms, so-called woods guide and trapper of fur-bearing animals, had relapsed into a sullen silence.

Of course he knew that the game for him was up, so far as attempting to deceive these wide-awake boys was concerned. Max wondered what thoughts were teeming through the brain of the man, as he sat there on the bench before the fire and listened to what passed between his captors. As for Obed, he cast many eager looks in the direction of the big fellow, and from the expression on his face Max believed he must be slowly making up his mind toward some move.

Therefore he was not much surprised to finally see the woods boy sit down alongside the man, who turned an inquiring face toward him. There was also a tightening of the muscles around his mouth, just as though he suspected he was about to be put to a severe test, and would have to gather his wits in order not to make a false move.

"Look here, Jake Storms, as you say your name is," commenced Obed, once more either forgetting to speak in his usual woods dialect, or not thinking it worth while to bother with it any longer, "I want to make you a proposition. Do you understand what a nice pickle you've got yourself into by prowling around my fur farm, and evidently trying to steal my silver black foxes? If we take you down to the nearest Adirondack town it means you'll likely enough, be sent up as a thief. How would you like that, tell me?"

"Huh! guess Jake Storms' got a reputation that'd kerry him through, all right, sonny," muttered the big man, but Max could see that he squirmed uneasily; likewise Obed must have guessed the truth also, as his next remarks proved.

"A reputation may be one way or the other, Jake Storms, if that is really your name, which I doubt very much. Perhaps some people might be glad to see you again. For one I don't believe for a single minute that you're a trapper, or that you ever worked for Paul Smith, who knows the kind of men he has around his hotel too well to hire a thief. I'm as sure as I draw breath that you came here to steal my blacks. Yes, and that you were hired to do this by another party. What was the sum of money he promised you, Jake, if you were successful; and is he around here with you?"

The man made no reply, though various expressive changes took place in the looks on his face. So Obed, after waiting several minutes to hear what the other might choose to say, went on.

"I said before that if we take you down to Lathrop you'll be locked up, and when court is in session placed on trial, charged with attempted robbery. Your picture will be taken, and sent broadcast to every city, so if you're wanted for anything big, the authorities will know just where to find you. That may not be pleasant for you to hear, Jake, but it's what I mean to have done. There's only one way you can escape it. Do you want to hear what that way is?"

"Yuh're away off the track, young feller," blurted the man, obstinately shaking his head in a contrary way, "I ain't done nawthin' to make me askeered o' the law officers. Jake Storms is my name, all right, too, and I'm meanin' to trap over on the Cranberry Creek section. And I'm on my way down to Lathrop right now to meet a Mr. Jasper, who'll vouch for my character, sure he will. But go ahead, and say what yuh meant to, boy. It won't do me any harm to hear it, I reckons."

"This is the chance you'll have to get scot free, and the only chance," said Obed solemnly. "Tell me who hired you to rob my fur farm, and not leave a single black in the burrows, and I'll let you go free. Will you take my offer, or risk a prison sentence, Jake?"

The man hesitated. That alone was enough to convince Max that he was guilty; for undoubtedly he must be weighing in the balance Obed's offer, with the possibility of making his escape through the assistance of companions.

"Ain't got nawthin' to say, boy," he finally growled, as though making up his mind. Obed started up, and hastening over to a desk at one end of the room he hurriedly searched through a drawer until he found what he was looking for; after which he again sat down beside the man with the tied hands.

It was a photograph which he held up before the prisoner, and Max could see it was a man's face on the card.

"Look at that, Jake Storms, and tell me, did he put it into your head to come up here and clean my enclosures out, so as to rob me of the work of nearly two years?"

The man started when he allowed his eyes to fall upon the face on the card; but recovering his nerve instantly, he laughed harshly and hurriedly snapped:

"I tell yuh, it's on the wrong track yuh are, boy." Why, I never set eyes on such a person as that thar. He's a utter stranger to me, and I don't know him from Adam. And I want to warn yuh that I'll turn around and have the law on yuh for playin' such a low-down trick on an honest man, just passin' along through the woods, and never thinkin' no harm to a single soul. I demands that yuh turn me loose to go my way. The woods are free as the air to everybody; that's the law. Further than that I ain't got nawthin' to say.

Obed was plainly chagrined, as Max could see. He evidently hoped to obtain some valuable information from this man; but it seemed Jake still clung to the hope that he might obtain his freedom without betraying secrets.

Max, taking advantage of Obed's absent-mindedness for a minute or so, managed to lean slightly forward and obtain a good look at the photograph. It was that of a young man, perhaps thirty years of age. Max was struck with the fact that the photograph certainly bore some little resemblance to Obed himself; and one could easily believe they must be related in some way; which, according to Obed's former recital of his widely flung family, would make the other a Grimes also.

The woods boy looked at the man several times, as though wondering whether it would pay to make any further offer as an inducement to the other to betray the confidence of his employer. But either Obed did not have the ready cash to offer a bribe, or else he deemed it not worth while, after the fellow had shown such a stubborn disposition; for presently he gave a sigh, and went back to return the photograph to the little desk, once doubtless Mr. Coombs' property.

Toby was nodding before the fire, and really paying very little attention to what was going on. In fact, he meant to crawl into his bunk shortly, so as to get a little more sleep before being called upon to take his turn outside as sentry. Toby not having had his suspicions concerning Obed aroused at any time, failed to take the same interest in the matter that Steve, for instance, would have done, had he been present.

"I hope yuh don't mean to make me set here on this bench all night with my hands tied behind me so cruel like?" remarked the man presently, applying his words directly toward Max, as though he, too, had long ago discovered how that energetic young chap seemed to be the "boss of the ranch."

"Why, no, we don't mean to be at all cruel," returned the other. "Here's an extra blanket you can have. I'll lay it out for you on the floor, and you can drop down just when you please. But don't expect that we're meaning to unfasten your wrists, Jake. We know a thing or two, and we're expecting to take you down to Lathrop tomorrow, to land you behind the bars. You've had your chance to squeal and get off scot-free; I doubt if another comes your way."

He did just as he said, spreading the blanket so the man could manage to roll over, and cover himself with its folds. This Jake presently accomplished. Max also noticed how he lay with his feet against the outer wall of the lodge and wondered at it, though without any clear idea that this had any positive significance. But time was to tell.

Toby had crept into his "cell," which was what Bandy-legs had dubbed the several bunks, built in the walls of the lodge so as to conserve room, and not be in the way during the daytime. Max, on his part, did not mean to follow suit. He thought it would hardly pay to try and snatch an hour's restless sleep when so much was going on around them. And, then, besides, he did not trust the prisoner wholly; believing it would be just as well to keep an eye on him.

Outside, all seemed as usual. It was long after midnight now, and if one listened carefully he could catch the customary noises of the woods at such a time, from the soft crooning of the breeze as it sighed through the pine tops, to the occasional note of some night-bird calling to its mate, or the plaintive voice of a hungry young coon waiting impatiently the return of its foraging mother.

Obed had thrown himself down on the cot, but Max knew he did not expect to lose himself in slumber. Several times he saw the woods boy raise his head and look in the direction of the sprawling figure of the man under the spare blanket. Obed was undoubtedly thinking still of ways whereby he might force a confession from the lips of the stubborn man; apparently he seemed to be intensely interested in discovering whether there was a power behind this raid on his enterprise. Max, remembering some things he had heard, began to believe he could see light in the darkness now; and from the way in which he chuckled to himself every little while, it might be judged that his thoughts were agreeable, on the whole.

Surely a whole hour and more must have passed since Steve and Bandy-legs started out to assume their duty as guards over the fox farm. Thus far nothing had been heard from the videttes, who were undoubtedly carrying out their orders to the best of their ability.

Max suddenly became aware that certain low sounds came to his ears. At first he thought some branch of a tree must be tapping the low eaves of the cabin being stirred to and fro by the breeze. As he listened further, however, it struck Max that there was a strange continuity about the sounds; they seemed to come in little fragments, with a brief hush between.

The boy was instantly reminded of certain experiences he himself had had in using a telegraph key while sending a message over the wires or listening to the sounder rattle off one from some distant point. Rude and uncouth though the dots and dashes were, Max quickly found that he could make out a positive word; and it was the significant one of "free!"

Gently he managed to turn his head in the direction of the spot where the man had lain down. He still seemed to be sprawled there under the blanket. A movement caught the eye of Max, and he saw Obed holding up a finger at him in mute warning. Thrilled by a sense of impending tragedy, perhaps, Max watched the woods boy slowly but constantly making toward him. Obed moved with the noiseless nature of a black snake creeping over the ground; his footfalls were so light that even a trained ear could not have detected them. He kept on toward Max until soon he had managed to reach the other's side.

Still those plain taps continued to sound in regular rotation, first coming from the outside, and then closer. Max believed the man on the floor was making use of his shoe to send a message calling for help; and that some unknown party outside was giving him words of hope.

But Obed had now gained his side, and meant to whisper something in his ear, so Max prepared to pay full attention. At the same time he glanced toward the door apprehensively, and was pleased to discover that, just as he believed had been the case, the bar was in position, so that entry could not be made by any enemy from without.



CHAPTER XIII

OBED LEARNS SOMETHING

"There's something brooding," Obed whispered the first thing; and then continued by saying: "What are those queer little taps, Max? I'm sure he has something to do with them."

"He's tapping the toe of his boot against the wall to send a message," explained the other. "They are using the telegraphic code. I read the one word 'free.' So, you see, there's some one outside the cabin, and they're hatching up a scheme to get him loose."

Obed grew very much excited. He looked toward the door as though inclined to immediately issue forth and investigate. Max thought the hope of capturing another prisoner was the lure that tempted him on.

"But what could have happened to Steve and Bandy-legs?" whispered the woods boy, as though suddenly remembering the pair supposed to be standing guard out there.

"Nothing has happened to them, depend on it," replied Max; "but this fellow must have been slippery enough to get by them, and reach the cabin, that's all."

"Oh! don't you think we might manage it, some way or other?" begged Obed.

Vague though his question may have been, Max had no difficulty whatever in understanding what he meant. His own thoughts were already ranging in the same quarter, and he could supply all the missing words. Obed was hoping that by suddenly issuing forth they might take the creeper by surprise, and effect his capture; such a possibility apparently gave the woods boy considerable pleasure even in the anticipation.

Max glanced again towards the door. They could creep noiselessly over in that direction while the man on the floor and his friend without continued their singular exchange of signals, remove the bar from its place, and opening the door dash out to take the stooping fellow by surprise.

But then three would be better than two in such an adventure. There was Toby Jucklin, a stout fellow, and usually well primed for anything that smacked of excitement and peril; he must be awakened, and enlisted in the game.

So Max held up a warning finger, and stooping low again whispered:

"I'll get Toby; wait by the door for us! Don't dream of going out until we join you!"

With that he silently slipped over to the opening in the wall occupied by the sleeping Toby Jucklin. The latter was easily aroused, and when Max whispered a word of caution in his ear, he knew enough not to cry out; though of course the blood must have started bounding like mad through his arteries.

Indeed, it was a most singular thing to be aroused from sound sleep by being told that danger hovered over their heads, and that it would be necessary for the three of them to sally forth so as to surprise the enemy at work.

Toby was game, however. His vocal cords might play tricks with him frequently, and give him heaps of trouble, but when it was a matter of action, Toby "took nobody's dust," as he often boasted.

Obed had meanwhile managed to creep over to the door, where he impatiently awaited the coming of the other two. The strange tapping sounds continued, and evidently the man lying there under the blanket had become so deeply interested in what he was trying to communicate or receive, that, so far, he had failed to discover there was any movement in the cabin.

Of course, all of the boys were quivering with half-suppressed excitement, though grimly determined to put their plan into operation. Obed had already reached up and taken hold of the bar, so as to be ready to remove it when joined by his companions.

"Keep the bar," whispered Max; "it will make a fine club, Obed!"

"Say when, Max," came back from the tightly compressed lips of the woods boy, whose eyes could be seen glittering eagerly in the firelight.

"Open up!" Max told him.

Perhaps the door may have made some creaking sound on being drawn back; either that, or else the man chanced to free his head from the muffling folds of the blanket just then, and discovered what was going on. He gave a shout of warning, and the three boys shot through the opening at the same instant.

Max led the way. He had carefully noted the location of the sounds, and judged that the interloper must be somewhere close to the wall where Jake Storms lay; so it was in that direction he leaped.

The stars wore shining brightly above. Besides this a certain amount of light managed to come through that small window of the lodge, and help to partially dispel the gloom without.

"There he is!" cried Obed, as they turned the corner, and discovered a figure in the act of scrambling erect.

Pell-mell the trio rushed at the unknown who just managed to gain a footing when he found himself furiously beset. There was a tremendous struggle. The man seemed savage at the thought of being caught, and struck furious blows. Toby at one time managed to cling to the other's back for a brief moment, but was dislodged by a clever fling that sent him crashing against a tree, and made him grunt like a hog that receives a jolt.

One thing certain, Max could easily see that the party they were attacking must be something of an athlete, from the way in which he fought. It is not easy to resist the assault of three enemies at once, since they may attack from as many directions, and confuse his defense; still the way this man struck out, dodged, tore himself free from their clinging hands, and conducted himself in general surprised Max very much indeed.

This kept up for almost two full minutes, with varying fortunes. Sometimes it appeared as though they were getting the upper hand of the unknown, and then by a furious effort he would break free again, only to be once more clutched.

In the midst of the fracas, loud shouts close at hand told that Steve and Bandy-legs, having heard the row, were rushing hurriedly to the spot, astonished beyond measure at the racket.

The man must have heard their cries, and the fact that his enemies were about to receive reinforcements seemed to give him the strength of desperation, for he suddenly tore himself free from Max, leaving his coat in the hands of the boy.

"Oh! he's gone!" gasped Obed, almost entirely out of breath because of his recent tremendous exertions.

For a fact, the man had vanished almost as though the ground had opened and swallowed him up. Even astute Max hardly knew which way to look for him. Then came the other pair rushing up, and demanding to know what all the row was about.

As soon as he could recover his breath, Max tried to explain. He had to repeat it twice, however, before Bandy-legs could grasp the astounding fact that some one had actually been carrying on a telegraphic conversation with their prisoner, tapping on the wall of the cabin to spell out the words.

"Say, you're stringing us, I expect, boys!" exploded the doubter; "it sounds just like a fairy story to me. But then there was some one here, because we glimpsed him disappearing like a falling star. I wanted to give him a shot, but I remembered what Max here said about shooting when in doubt; and we didn't just know but what it might be one of you."

"But, Max, he got away after all!" continued the disappointed Obed, as though to his mind that event overshadowed all others; "and I did want to find out if it was any one I knew. I believe it was, on my soul, for at college he always had the reputation of being an all-round athlete."

"Huh!" grunted Toby, rubbing his head ruefully as he came up, and limping in the bargain, "t-t-that was him, all r-r-right then, Obed. I don't know the f-f-fellow's n-n-name, but I've g-g-got his trade-mark on my c-c-cheek, every k-k-knuckle of his fist. Huh! he's an athlete, every time!"

"But don't tell me our prisoner skipped out!" cried Steve, in sore dismay.

"Not that we know of, unless he's gone since we dashed from the cabin," Max informed him. "And as we can't accomplish anything standing here, suppose we adjourn to the inside again. Toby will want a little soothing salve on his bruises; and I've got a sore hand myself, where I struck him harder than I meant to on the back of his head."

"It's too bad, too bad!" mourned Obed, following the others toward the open door. "Such a splendid chance may not come again; and I'd like to know, I certainly would."

When they entered the cabin, the first thing all of them did was to look eagerly to see if the man still lay there, Upon finding that he had not tried to escape during all the excitement, possibly being afraid he be fired on, they felt relieved.

"Anyhow, we've still got him safe and sound," declared Steve, exultantly.

"And he may make up his mind to tell yet," remarked Obed, picking up fresh hope, "when he finds that I mean all I said, and that he's on the road to prison."

The man glowered at them, though apparently he seemed fairly well pleased to find that they had not succeeded in capturing his ally. Max awaited developments. He was satisfied with the way things were going, and deep down in his heart believed the thrilling announcement he was storing up with which to startle his three chums would not now be long delayed.

"I s'pose we ought to go out again, and resume our watch," suggested Steve, after a short time had elapsed. "It's too soon for a change; and after all that excitement none of us feel a bit sleepy."

"As for me," ventured Bandy-legs, "I'm that wide awake I feel as if I never could go to sleep again while we're up here in the mountains, where such queer things keep on happening right along."

"S-s-say, I'm s-s-sorry for Obed," ventured Toby, who it seems had heard the lament of the woods boy, and could sympathize with him. "He had h-h-hoped to g-g-get a pointer by g-g-grabbing that streak of g-g-greased lightning; but after all, the fellow was too much for the whole b-b-bunch of us."

"But it's made me feel pretty sure now," said Obed brightening up perceptibly, "that I know who's to blame for all this trouble. I had a hint about it before, you remember I told you, boys; and while he kept his face hidden pretty much all the time he fought, I surely heard him say something that struck me as familiar. He wasn't a stranger, I'm certain of that."

"Well," said Max, quietly, "perhaps there may be a way to prove that."

"Please tell me how, Max!" pleaded Obed, eagerly.

"The mysterious stranger managed to get away," chuckled the other, "but he wasn't so clever about taking all his wardrobe along with him, you remember."

"Oh! his coat!" cried Obed, in thrilling accents.

"I hung on to that like a leech," now laughed Max. "Of course I should have been smart enough to keep my fingers on the man inside, but he had a slick way of just slipping out of the coat. First thing I knew he was gone, leaving me holding the bag, as they say. Want to take a look at that article, don't you, Obed? Sometimes men have a fashion of keeping letters and documents in their coat pockets; and between us I believe you'll find something like that here."

With these words, the speaker took up the coat he had torn from the back of the unknown, and tossed it carelessly toward Obed.

The woods boy snatched at the garment eagerly. Newly aroused hope could be seen upon his face. Everybody watched to see what the outcome might turn out to be. Steve and Bandy-legs, ready to withdraw from the circle, and resume their outside vigil, stayed their departure for a brief period in order to satisfy their curiosity. Even the so-called Jake Storms had his fishy eyes fixed on Obed, as though it mattered something to him whether the latter learned the answer to the conundrum, or was obliged to let it pass by unsolved.

So Obed upon receiving the coat, proceeded to ram an eager hand into the pockets, one after another. When he reached an inside one, he found a bonanza, just as Max had anticipated. There were some papers there, as well as a bill book. Bending down nearer the fire, so that he might the better see, Obed glued his eyes on his find. A few seconds passed. The fire crackled as it began to eat into the fresh fuel that had been tossed to the red embers upon the incoming of the party. Toby grunted once or twice, and continued to ruefully rub the side of his head, his right arm, one of his thighs, and, in fact, as much of his entire person as he could conveniently cover in a short space of time.

Then Obed was heard to give a low exclamation. His whole manner was a singular mixture of satisfaction and anger. Evidently, he had accomplished his set purpose, and the result had aroused conflicting emotions within his breast.

"Well, have you found out who the man is, Obed?" asked Steve, unable to curb his burning curiosity.

"Yes, there's no longer any question about it," returned the other, bitterly, "for here are letters addressed to him. I may even take the privilege of reading them tomorrow, for in that way I can perhaps discover some evidence that will force him to stop this ugly business. Oh! the meanness of Robert to strike this cowardly blow at me, his own cousin! He's a disgrace to the whole family."

"Pity the poor Grimeses!" exclaimed Max, looking straight at Obed, with such a queer expression on his face that presently the woods boy could not keep from bursting into a laugh.

"Max, you're on to me; I can see!" he cried, rushing up to the other and holding out his hand eagerly. "I've guessed for some time that you had your suspicions, and now I know it's so."

And Max, too, threw back his head to indulge in a good laugh; while Steve, Toby and Bandy-legs, with months agape, and eyes that were as round as saucers, simply gathered around' and stared at the two who were shaking hands.

"Hey! what's all this about, I want to know?" spluttered Steve; just as though he meant to say that no one had any business to have secrets from the rest; "looky here, Obed, since when did you forget that Grimes woods lingo you've been giving us right along! I'm beginning to smell a rat, that's what I am!"