Rob, after getting out, wandered around to the barns to see the cows being milked, and the pigs fed, as well as the chickens and turkeys and ducks. He loved to watch the big bronze gobbler strut around, and make all those strange sounds as his wings scraped the ground. Then the lordly peacocks on the ridge-pole of the big barn emitted a series of shrill cries as they preened their glorious plumage. When one of them chose to strut in all his glory on the ground, Rob thought it was a most astonishing sight.
“Did Peleg happen to come back last night?” he asked one of the men who was drawing the milk from a fine Jersey cow; Mr. Jeffords wanted richness rather than quantity, which was the reason he preferred that strain to the banded Holsteins.
“I guess not,” came the answer—“leastways, I ain’t seen anything ov him around since the boy rode into town with the lot ov you t’other evenin’.”
All of which only added to the mystery. Still, another day had come, and perhaps they would see something of Peleg before nightfall. Since it was known that he had been within seven miles of the farm on the preceding day, while visiting his sister, there was a likelihood of his turning up. Rob was beginning to feel that he wanted to see the end of this little mystery. Innocent or guilty, he certainly hoped Peleg would come along before the time set for their departure arrived.
Just then he sighted Ralph returning. He held the camera safely under his arm, and if the smile on his face stood for anything, Rob felt justified in believing that the little venture must have met with success.
“You got there before the light did, I hope?”
“Oh! yes, just the first peep was coming over in the east when I arrived and took up the camera. Your scheme worked, too, Rob, because the bait was gone, and the flashlight cartridge had been fired in the pan.”
“We’ll find out after breakfast whether the snapshot is any good,” the scout leader suggested. “If this one proves to be poor, we can try again tonight, if no signs of rain warn us off. You never can tell what you get until you develop your film or plate. Some of the finest exposures I ever took were desperate chances, and that made the surprise all the more agreeable.”
Later on Rob developed the plate in his daylight tank, and soon assured the anxious Ralph, who, strange to say, had up to then never cared for photography, that they had secured a splendid negative. It showed the cautious mink clearly in the act of taking the fish bait.
“I do believe it’s my old Jinks, as I named the first mature mink I managed to get hold of!” exclaimed Ralph, minutely examining the bright negative. “Why, you can see the hair on his back, the detail work is so perfect. Rob, I’m going to like this thing more than I can tell you. It opens up a new field for me, and one that seems to be just to my taste.”