"Sho, ye don't say? Well, now, that's fine! I'll be right glad to see sumpin' o' ye while around. Whar's the camp, Jerry?"
"At the spring under the twin hemlocks. We wanted to run over and see how you were getting on. Started to put out your traps yet, Jesse?" asked the other.
"Oh! I got a few in line. Season's a bit early yet, ye see. Bringing in some musquash," and he swept his hand around at a dozen wooden frames upon which the skins were drying in the shade.
"Please let me get a picture of you at work, just as you were when we came up," said the ambitious photographer, keen on the subject that interested him most.
The trapper grinned good-naturedly.
"Fire away, then. So long as I don't give away any o' my secret ways o' preparin' the pelts, I don't keer. I'm some proud o' that shack, too. Sheds the rain, an' kin be kept warm easy; what more do a feller want?" he observed.
The operation was speedily completed.
"Hope you feel better now you've got that out of your system," said Jerry.
"I have five more exposures on this roll of film, boys. Hope to get something worth while before we start back to camp," retorted Will, caressing his new camera.
"Where do you get the muskrats, Jesse?" asked Frank, as he bent down to examine the way in which each skin was carefully stretched out on its little frame.