"Yes," said Frank, leaning on the muzzle of his gun, and wiping the perspiration from his forehead, "we're minus that 'coon, easily enough, unless we wait until morning, and cut the tree down."
"Look here, boys," suddenly exclaimed George, who had been holding his lantern above his head, and examining the sides of the tree; "did you ever see a tree look like this before?"
As they moved around to the side where George stood, Archie called out,
"There must be a big nest of 'coons in here; the tree is completely skinned."
"Yes," said Frank, "we've accidentally stumbled upon a regular 'coon-tree. There must be a big family of them living here. The tree looks as if some one had taken an ax and cleaned off the bark. But," he added, "finding where the 'coons have been and catching them are two very different things."
"What do you mean?" inquired Archie, "You don't pretend to say that the 'coons are not in the tree?"
"Certainly I do. I wouldn't be afraid to stake Brave against any little cur in the village that the 'coon the dogs have just followed here is the only one in the tree."
"What makes you think so?"
"Why, now is their feeding-time, and all the 'coons in this part of the woods are in the cornfield. It wouldn't pay to cut down this big tree for one 'coon; so let's go home and go to bed, and early to-morrow morning we will come back here and bag our game."
The boys agreed to this, and they whistled to their dogs, and started through the woods toward home.