"It is because of the lumber business—-he wanted the tract of lumber to cut that the Barnaby Company got hold of," went on Jack Dalton. "How are you a-makin' it?"
"Fine!" said Snap, and then he and his chums told of all the game that had been brought down—-they having kept a record in a little book the leader of the gun club carried.
"That's first-class, boys," said the guide. "Couldn't be better. Now, all they got were two wild turkeys, some rabbits and one small deer. I led 'em to a fine herd o' deer, but they wanted to do the shootin' all alone. When it came time to let drive, Felps and one o' the other men got buck fever and shot wild, and most of the deer got away. That was one thing made me sick. They can't shoot fer sour apples."
"And they'll blame their ill luck on you, when they get home," said Whopper.
"More'n likely. But I don't care fer thet. Folks in these parts know what Jack Dalton kin do. Jest you ask Jed Sanborn about it."
"Yes, Sanborn has spoken about you," answered Snap. "He said you had brought down some of the biggest deer and bears in these parts."
"Exactly so, boy, although I don't want to blow about it. Tootin' yer own horn ain't perlite. But I ain't afraid o' what sech a feller as Andy Felps says."
That night Jack Dalton told them the story of a bear hunt, which was more than ordinarily interesting. He said that bears were by no means plentiful in the lake region and yet there were a few around, some of pretty fair size.
"You'll run across one when ye least expect it," said the old hunter. "When that happens, take your time an' shoot to kill. If ye don't, Mr. Bear may come up an' hug you to death, jess fer the fun o' it."
"I am going to set a bear trap," said one of the boys, and told of the plan, which was approved by Jack Dalton.