"No," continued the other, eagerly; "but you see, Owen, before I went to sleep I had Max tie a string to my leg and the other end to that loop. It was fixed under the root of a tree; and if the trap went off, why, don't you see, the string'd give me just a sweet little yank, like it wanted to tell me to come around and take my game out."
"And did you feel that same yank?" demanded Steve, sitting up suddenly.
"Right now, before I woke Owen up. Oh, it was a sure enough jerk, all right! What'll we do about it?" demanded Bandy-legs.
"Let's crawl out and see what happened," remarked Owen, setting his actions to correspond with his words, and being followed by his two companions.
"What is it?"
That was Max speaking, and they could see his head poked out from the partly open flap of the smaller tent. Evidently he must have been awake at the time, or else the sound of murmuring voices aroused him; for Max always declared that he was a very light sleeper.
"Bandy-legs here says his trap is sprung," remarked Owen. "He tells us you fixed a string to his leg and the other end to the loop. Well, that just gave him word something had happened."
"We'll soon find out," was all Max remarked, as he proceeded to crawl all the way out of his tent.
Stepping over he picked up the lantern, and a match that had been left handily near by. And so it took but a fraction of a minute for them to possess a light that would answer all purposes.
The four of them then approached the place where Bandy-legs had set his wonderful snare, which he had tested so well himself to start with.