“I've had no luck at all,” said he, in reply to Bob's inquiring look. “I might as well have stayed at home. Don says he can't join a club of this kind, because, having got David the job of trapping the quails, he can't go back on him. He says he's a poacher and pot-hunter himself; and what surprised me was, he did not seem to be at all ashamed of it.”
“Of course he wasn't ashamed,” said Bob. “He thinks that everything he and his pale-faced brother do is just right. Did he say anything about what passed between Bert and myself at the post-office?”
“Not a word.”
“I was afraid he would,” said Bob, drawing a long breath of relief, “for he knows that you and I are friends.”
Yes, Don knew that, but there were two good reasons why he had not spoken to Lester about Bob's threat of slapping Bert over. In the first place, he was not aware that Bob had made any such threat. Bert was one of the few boys we have met, who did not believe in telling everything he knew. Do you know such a boy among your companions? If you do, you know one whom nobody is afraid to trust. Bert wanted to live in peace, and thought it a good plan to quell disturbances, instead of helping them along. He knew that if he told his brother what had happened in the post-office, there would be a fight, the very first time Don and Bob met, and Bert didn't believe in fighting. But even if Don had known all about it, he would not have said anything to Lester. He would have waited until he met Bob, and then he would have used some pretty strong arguments, and driven them home by the aid of his fist. How much trouble might be avoided, if there were a few more boys like Bert Gordon in the world!
“I am not sorry I went down there,” continued Lester, “for I had the satisfaction of showing those conceited fellows that there are some boys in the settlement besides themselves who know a thing or two. I read the constitution to them, and it would have made you laugh to see them open their eyes. Bert was so astonished that he couldn't say a word, and Don never took his gaze off my face while I was reading. When I got through he asked me to read that clause with the Latin and Greek in it over again, so that he could copy the names in his note-book. He'll learn them by heart, and use them some time in conversation and so get the reputation of being a very smart and a very learned boy. If he does it in your presence, I want you to let folks know that he is showing off on the strength of my brains. I don't suppose the ignoramus ever knew before——”
“Well, who cares whether he did or not?” exclaimed Bob, impatiently. “That's a matter that doesn't interest me. Is Dave Evans going to make that hundred and fifty dollars and cheat me out of a new shot-gun? That's what I want to know!”
“Of course he isn't,” replied Lester. “We can't stop him by the aid of the Sportsman's Club, and so we will stop him ourselves without the aid of anybody. Let him go to work and set his traps, and we'll see how many birds he will take out of them. We'll rob every one we can find and keep the quail ourselves. In that way we may be able to make up the fifty dozen without setting any of our own traps. We'll write to that man, as you suggested, and when Dave finds he can't catch any birds, he'll get discouraged and leave us a clear field. But first I want to touch up Don and Bert Gordon a little to pay them for the way they treated me this evening. That shooting-box shall be laid in ashes this very night. I expected an invitation to shoot there last spring, but I didn't get it, and now I am determined that they shall never ask anybody there. What do you say?”
“I say, I'm your man,” replied Bob.
And so the thing was settled. Lester put his horse in the barn, went in to supper, which was announced in a few minutes (Bob found opportunity before he sat down to the table to purloin a box of matches, which he put carefully away in his pocket), and when the meal was over, the two boys went back to the wagon-shed, where they sat and talked until it began to grow dark. Then Bob brought a couple of paddles out of the corner of the wagon-shed, handed one to his companion, and the two walked slowly down the road. When they were out of sight of the house they climbed the fence, and directed their course across the fields toward the head of the lake. Then they quickened their pace. They had much to do, and they wanted to finish their work and return to the house before their absence was discovered.