“Wal,” said Uncle Joe, as they arose from the breakfast-table, “what do you youngsters kalkerlate to do first?”
“Let’s go and set our traps for foxes,” said Archie, who was particularly fond of hunting that kind of game, and had become quite proficient in the art.
“Wal,” said Dick, “I’ll go with you. I have some traps that need ’tendin’ to;” and the trapper took down his long rifle and thrust his never-failing pipe into his pocket, and was ready for the start.
Archie began to overhaul his traps, which had been piled in one corner of the cabin. He looked them over and over several times, and finally inquired:
“Frank, do you know what has become of all my fox traps? Three of them are missing.”
“They ought to be in that pile with the others,” answered Frank.
“There are only two of them here,” said Archie. “My best ones are gone; I’m afraid we have lost them. They must have got loose, and tumbled off the sled.”
“No, I guess not,” said his cousin; “they were all there last night, for I counted them.”
“That ar is what comes of allowin’ them Injuns to camp here,” said Dick.