The work of making the trench was simple, and when it had been completed, Dick ordered them to get about a dozen thin saplings.
“Strikes me the fat boy is pretty good at bossing, isn’t he, Garry?” said Phil with a laugh.
“Go on now, get those saplings. You see before you a mighty inventor who cannot be bothered with menial tasks,” said Dick in a lofty tone.
“Don’t know whether to trip him up and sit on him, or just ignore him,” said Garry to Phil.
Still chaffing good naturedly, the two set out for the saplings, while Dick busied himself with setting his camera in the brush, masking it so that only the lens appeared. Having done this, he stepped away a few feet and looked to see if it was observable. He decided that no one could see it without looking for it especially.
Garry and Phil came back and stood for a moment, looking straight at the brush screen that had been erected.
“Why didn’t you improve the shining moments and put your camera in place?” asked Garry as he saw the closed case lying on the ground.
“Fine!” exclaimed Dick delightedly. “It’s there already, and if you boys who know about it couldn’t see it, then certainly no one else will. Now for the trap.”
The making of the trap was a delicate process. First he took two sticks and laid them crossways at each end of the trench. Then he anchored these securely at each end, putting dirt on them and stamping it down with his heavy shoe packs so that it would not stir in the slightest degree.
Next he delved into his knapsack and brought out some strong but thin linen cord they had bought some time previously and which had served them well at various times, since it was light enough to do fairly delicate work with, yet strong enough to bear some strain. He ran a length of this from the lever on the camera to a sapling which was laid across the two supports that he had built. With this as a guide, he attached a dozen threads a foot or two from where the nearest sapling began.