"They ain't got a line; Uncle Jim says it's a stripe," vociferated Bandy-legs.
"But the day's nearly done and we've got to do something about it," remarked Trapper Jim. "Can't one of you think up a way? He acts like he meant to stay in there as long as the feed holds out."
"Perhaps he's heard the dogs," suggested Owen. "We've got them tied up close by, and every little while one gives a yelp."
"They seem to just know there's something up," declared Bandy-legs.
"S-s-sure t-t-thing," added Toby, seriously.
"Max, haven't you got a plan?" asked the owner of the cabin, turning toward the other eagerly, as though he guessed that if they found help at all it would be in this quarter.
"I was just thinking of something," replied the boy, smiling.
"Yes, go on," Trapper Jim continued.
"We couldn't coax him out, and if we tried to frighten the little rascal it'd be all day with our staying in that cabin again while we boys are up here. But perhaps he might be made to feel so unpleasant in there that he'd be glad to move off."
"Good for you, Max; I can see you've got an idea," cried out Jim, approvingly.