"If you'll be on hand to-night," said Monkey, "and follow us, you may see some fun."
"All right! We'll be on hand," said Ned and I.
In the evening we all met in the office—all except Phaeton, who was a little late.
"Monkey," said Ned, in a confidential tone, "I want to make you an offer."
"Offer away," answered Monkey.
"If you catch one," said Ned, "I'll give you a hundred dollars for it."
"If I catch one?" said Monkey. "If—I—catch—one? Oh, yes—all right! I'll give you whatever I catch, for that price. Though I may not catch anything but Hail Columbia."
"But I won't take it unless it's the kind they stuff," said Ned.
"The kind—they—stuff?" said Monkey. "Did you say the kind they stuff, or the kind of stuff? Oh, yes—the kind of Hail Columbia they stuff. That would be a bald eagle, I should think."
At this moment Phaeton joined us.