“Oh! the photographer crank has to keep that in mind,” explained Elmer. “I understand experts in this line, who spend all their time and a heap of money in the bargain going to strange sections of the earth, just to get such pictures for their collection, have devised some sort of a clever arrangement whereby the pull at the cord by the wild animal releases the shutter of the camera, which closes again after a certain length of time, protecting the exposed film against any light that may come along, such as the rising sun.”
Just then the object of their conversation appeared, coming from the cabin. Amos looked haggard and worn. Evidently he had passed a bad night, and his three chums felt greatly concerned over it.
Still, as they had agreed to act quite natural, they tried not to let him see what lay deep down in their hearts. Perk called out to him cheerily, to ask some natural question, and Wee Willie followed it up by saying:
“We were just asking Elmer about that mink you saw yesterday, Amos; and he told us you’d certainly lay for him to-night. I never got close to a shy mink, and hardly know what one looks like; so I sure hope you do strike off a good picture of his Royal Highness. I give him that title, you see, because his fine pelt has soared to what dealers call ‘abnormal prices’ in the fur market.”
“Yes,” Amos agreed, falling into Wee Willie’s pit, and showing something of interest, “all furs reached stiff prices during the World War. You see, so many who used to spend their winters trapping fur-bearing animals, in America, Russia, and other countries, were called to the colors, so the fur harvest dwindled terribly.”
“They say it’s an ill wind that blows nobody good,” chirped Perk; “and what was hard on high-born ladies, and men who must have their fur-lined overcoats, was a big boon to the poor little hunted four-footed creatures who have to exercise all their intuitions so as to save their own coats.”
“Why,” Wee Willie broke in, “right close by up in Muskrat Swamp around the headwaters of our Beaverkill River they say the little beasts never were one-half so plenty as this summer. I warrant you there’ll be many a dollar picked up there next winter, when some fellows I know start in trapping them.”
“Muskrat Swamp,” mused Perk, reflectively, “do you know I’ve never had even a peep into that queer place, and it lying not much over twenty miles away from Chester in the bargain. Some day I hope our crowd goes up there to camp, and prowl around. I’d give a heap to see what a real swamp looks like.”
“Not a bad idea, Perk!” called out Elmer, who had heard what was being said, though up to then for reasons of his own he had not chosen to break into the conversation, “and we’ll consider it later on. I’d like to explore that place myself, though I reckon we ought to have a boat of some kind to do the thing properly.”
Perhaps all of them would have been considerably astonished could they have lifted the curtain of the immediate future, and discovered how soon just such a glorious opportunity was fated to crop up, and beckon them.