It was. After floundering through the bushes for some distance the
Rangers stopped.
"Now, Fatty, it's your turn," announced Cad. "You may have to wait around here for an hour or two while we beat up the bushes and drive the 'possum in, but you won't care. You'll be glad you stayed when you get a nice fat 'possum for your breakfast."
"I'll catch him if he comes this way," replied the fat boy.
"You bet you'll catch it," chuckled Dippy.
"How long do I stay here?"
"Till you git a 'possum," answered Polly. "Mebby that'll be in two minutes and mebby not in two hours, but you've got to stand very still. If you move you'll scare the whole pack of them back into their holes."
Stacy squared himself, holding the opening of the bag close up to the burning candle.
"That's right. A little more to the left with the opening," directed Cad, who had constituted himself the master of the hunt. "Now hold it. You other two lads work around the outside. One of you go to the north, the other to the south about a quarter of a mile, then work gradually in, beating the bushes, slamming these clubs against every tree you come to big enough to hold a 'possum. In that way you'll drive them in."
"Yes, sir," answered Tad and Ned very solemnly.
"And go slow. Just take a step at a time, or some of the birds may get by you."