"There it is, boys," said Frank, pointing ahead.
"And he's home, too; something I hardly expected at this time of day,"
from Jerry. "Because if he has a line of traps the morning is the time he
tends them, I'm told."
As they approached, the man in the camp turned and saw them. He was a
tall and angular fellow, well on in years, and with keen eyes that seemed
always looking for signs around him.
"Say, boys, this here is right nice o' you, comin' to look me up. Out on
a leetle hunt to-day?" he asked, as he shook hands all around.
"We've come up to camp out for a couple of weeks, while repairs are made
to the school building, damaged in the gale of wind," answered Frank.
"Sho, ye don't say? Well, now, that's fine! I'll be right glad to see
sumpin' o' ye while around. Whar's the camp, Jerry?"
"At the spring under the twin hemlocks. We wanted to run over and see
how you were getting on. Started to put out your traps yet, Jesse?"
asked the other.
"Oh! I got a few in line. Season's a bit early yet, ye see. Bringing in
some musquash," and he swept his hand around at a dozen wooden frames
upon which the skins were drying in the shade.
"Please let me get a picture of you at work, just as you were when we
came up," said the ambitious photographer, keen on the subject that
interested him most.
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