"Caught the finest silver I ever set eyes on only to have him snatched by a sneak of a pelt thief!" and he pointed as he spoke to the imprint of a shoe in the soil.
CHAPTER XIV.
THE PURSUIT.
"Stolen!" burst out impulsive Steve, his face pale with rage.
Both boys felt keenly for their friend, Trapper Jim. He had looked forward so long to capturing his rare prize; he had taken such great pains to set his traps with that object in view; and now, after success had come, and the black beauty was caught, it must be terribly aggravating to discover that some one had happened on the spot, robbed the trap, and was far away with the precious pelt.
Trapper Jim did not often give way to his feelings. He quickly got a fresh grip on his emotions and could talk calmly again. But there was a gleam in those piercing eyes of his, undimmed by age, that made Owen glad he did not stand in the shoes of the pelt thief.
"When do you think he was here, Uncle Jim?" Max asked, as he examined the plain track of the thief's shoe.
"This morning, and not more than an hour ago," came the answer. "He was heading as straight as could be for our cabin, like he meant to drop in on me; but after this he turned back. The temptation was too much. Few men could let a chance pass by to pick up a silver fox when a common red wouldn't bother 'em the least bit."
"But, say, I hope you don't mean to let him get away with the skin altogether, Uncle Jim," flashed Steve, with an angry look still on his face.