HOW JERRY WAS TREED
Jerry, that same morning, reached the camp of the old trapper without any trouble.
He did not find Jesse Wilcox at home; but, knowing something of the trapper's habits, he made himself comfortable, and waited.
After a time the other showed up. He carried a tidy bunch of fur along with him, having stopped to remove the pelts on the way.
"Glad to see ye, Jerry. Looky here, one fine fox, and, would ye believe it, actually a mink, boy! That ere pelt orter bring me a twenty, all right. That's why I'm so tickled, ye see. This shore must be one o' my lucky days. Make yerself to hum. Come to take a snack o' dinner along with me, I reckons, eh?"
"Well, I might wait up and have a bite if you don't keep me too long. You see I mean to make a roundabout trip into that stretch of woods you told us about I'd like the worst kind to get a crack at a deer. That would be worth while, Jesse."
"Then I'll get busy right away. But p'raps ye'd better defer that ere trip fur a day or so, lad," remarked the trapper, sweeping an eye upward.
"Why?" asked the boy.
"Thar's some sorter storm broodin', er I'm bad deceived. In course at this season we don't expect much along that line; but I hev seen a scorcher come along, even in October. Ten year ago it was, and thar was quite some timber leveled, I'm tellin' ye."
But Jerry was built along a stubborn line: Having once made up his mind to do a thing it was very hard for him to break away.