“Rabbit trap. Box trap. Rafe and I brought it down here with us and set it this morning. I put a handful of corn in it and I saw rabbit tracks all about just before it began to snow so hard. Here it is.”
The speaker had knelt down in the snow and was uncovering some long, narrow object with his hands.
“It’s sprung, anyway. You see, the door’s dropped,” he said. “The rabbit pokes right in after the corn, and when he begins to eat the bait clear at the end of the box, he trips the trigger and the door falls. Yes! He’s here!”
“Oh, Je-ru-sa-lem! A real rabbit?” gasped Sammy Pinkney.
“A poor little bunny?” murmured Tess, her tender heart at once disturbed at the thought of the trapped animal.
“Huh! If we are snowed up in that cave for a week or so,” said the boy called Rowdy, “you’ll be mighty glad I caught this rabbit.”
He had lifted the door and thrust in his left hand to seize the animal.
“Oh! Oh!” squealed Dot. “Won’t it bite you?”
“It doesn’t bite with its hind legs,” said Rowdy with scorn. “Ah! I got him.”
He drew forth the rabbit, kicking and squirming. The little mouse-like cry the poor beast made sounded very pitiful to Tess. She murmured: