"Ugh!"

"Musquash is no better, if they do pay a good price for it."

"Do they?"

"They do. To make scent of for the ladies. One of them little bags will make gallons and gallons, they say. I know a man that buys all he can get. There you are! A heap better off than you was before. I reckon that trap will hold a musquash next time it catches one."

"Thank you," said Bertie.

"And if the spring don't happen to kill him, just touch him on the head with a stone. A little tap will do it, for he is mighty tender about the head."

Bertie said "Thank you" again, and Jack helped him bait and set the trap, and this time a deadly snare was laid for the musk-rat. Bertie was late to breakfast. Charley looked up inquiringly as he walked in and took his seat at the table; but Bertie had not a word of explanation to offer. Charley had laughed at him so often that he meant to keep his own counsel till the game was sure; but he could not help showing in his face that something unusual had happened.

"Catch anything?" said Charley.

"No."

"Trap sprung?"