“But he got away, vanished before we came back from the house after scrubbing the boy.”
“That’s all the better; might have got hurt otherwise, eh? He will stay around here somewhere. Now what I want you to do is to set some traps until you catch him. I’ve brought the traps. They’re made like boxes, plenty of room inside. What do you say?”
“Catch a live skunk!” the Farmer exclaimed suspiciously. “Not I, do it yourself.” Then the thought came to him that perhaps the man really would be fool enough to pay money for a skunk. “How much will you give for him,” he asked.
“Twenty-five dollars,” was the prompt reply. The Farmer could scarcely conceal a gasp of surprise. Why, his goat wasn’t worth that much! His eyes narrowed;
“Not enough,” he answered craftily.
“Thirty-five, then.”
“Not enough,” croaked the Farmer again experimentally. The man regarded him doubtfully.
“Well,” he said at length, “fifty is my limit. But he’s got to be unhurt and well, do you understand?” The Farmer stood up.
“All right,” he agreed, “I’ll catch him for you. Let’s see your traps. I’ve had two of mine set for several nights but haven’t caught anything.”
“What do you use for bait?”