"Fifty thousand dollars," said Horace.
The fur-trader laughed heartily.
"You'll be lucky if you get a quarter of that," he said. "Why, we bought a fine, full-grown black fox last year for five hundred. Your cubs are hardly worth anything, you know. They 're almost sure to die before they grow up."
"Professor Forsythe doesn't think so," replied Horace.
"Well, I'm glad I saw them," said the dealer. "If I can hear of a buyer for you I'll send him along, but you'll have to come away down on your prices. You might let me have your address, in case I hear of anything."
"It doesn't look as if we were going to sell them!" said Fred, who was not used to shrewd business dealing. "Perhaps we can't get any price at all."
Horace laughed.
"Oh, that was all bluff. I saw the fellow's eyes light up when he saw these black beauties. He'll be back to see us within a day or two."
Sure enough, the man did come back. He scarcely mentioned the foxes this time, but took the boys out motoring. As they were parting he said carelessly, "I think I might get you a buyer for your foxes, but he couldn't pay over fifteen thousand."
"No use in our talking to him then," replied Horace, with equal indifference.