“Oh! I’ve met them in the woods when the sun was shining brightly,” said Rob. “Hunger causes even animals who see best in the dark to roam around during daylight. But I agree with you, Ralph, when you figure that your trap is more apt to wind up the cat’s career than Pete’s gun.”
All of them went forth to see the trap set, Pete leading them to where he had reason to believe the animal had crossed the boundary line of the preserves. Tubby in particular watched every move Ralph made when setting the trap; for Tubby knew next to nothing about such things, never having had an opportunity to visit the woods during fur season.
After this had been duly attended to, they once more took a look around the fur farm, and then sauntered back to the house. Rob was wondering what Ralph intended doing with regard to finding an answer connected with the stamp disappearance mystery. He fully anticipated that the other would announce his intended departure for the town, and asking whether any of them would care to go along. But the morning passed away, and nothing was said or done.
In fact, Andy and Tubby went fishing, the stout scout seeming to have taken a great liking for the sport. Considering the fact that he was “high notch” so far, having captured the largest bass yet taken, this was not to be wondered at.
“I’m going to ask you to do me a favor, Rob,” remarked Ralph as they sat there on the porch, Sim being at some other part of the premises just then, having accompanied his uncle to see a new patent churn that he had installed in the milk cellar.
“Now he’s going to bring up the subject of Peleg again,” thought Rob; but for once he was mistaken, since Ralph did nothing of the sort.
“I’m getting to be a whole lot interested in that flashlight picture game,” he went on to say; “and I’d like to see how you work it, if you don’t object.”
“Why, that would be easy enough,” the scout leader told him, much gratified, “for I happen to have the apparatus in my bag. You see, at the last minute I got an idea we might want to take a few pictures of that sort, and so I chucked it in. What kind of animal have you in mind, Ralph?”
“Well, my mink interest me more than anything else,” came the reply; “partly because they are so shy that you can hardly ever get a glimpse of the little rascals. I don’t know near as much about their habits as I’d like, though as a trapper I understood where to set my traps in order to catch them visiting in and out of the holes along the banks of a creek.”
“All right, then, if you say the word we can set a snare tonight that may bring results,” Rob continued. “I don’t know that I ever got a good picture of a mink, and it would please me to manage it that way.”