Young Dan complied with this request, cooked the breakfast and tucked into it. He set out on the northward line at the first break of dawn, with a sack over his shoulder containing a supply of the new bait and a haunch of venison, leaving Andy Mace still rubbing that high-smelling cure-all into his right knee and telling how it had been tender ever since he had hurt it fifty years ago in an argument with a man from Quebec.
It was a fine morning, and a clear finger of light in the east promised a fine day. The air was still and not so perishing cold as it had been the day before. Young Dan traveled fast. He found a mink in the first trap and stowed it away in the sack without waiting to skin it. He rebaited the trap with a frozen trout. The second and third traps were exactly as he had last seen them; the fourth contained a red fox, which he added to the collection in the sack; and the remaining traps were undisturbed. He continued northward along the trail that led to the Conley cabin.
Young Dan did not find Jim Conley at home, but Mrs. Conley and the babies were there. He produced the haunch of deer-meat, for which the woman thanked him heartily.
“I’m glad to see that Jim’s able to be up and out,” he said. “He must be feeling better.”
“I reckon he’s some better,” she replied. “He lit out for the settlements two days back, anyhow.”
“To fetch in some grub?”
“Maybe he’ll fetch in some grub.”
Young Dan’s eyes turned significantly to the floor at the edge of the bunk beneath which he had discovered the store of “square-faces” during his last visit. The woman observed the glance and sighed. Young Dan felt embarrassed.
“I’m glad he has something to buy grub with,” he said.
“He’s got a few skins,” said the woman. “He went out an’ set some traps first thing after the tongue-lashin’ ye give him.”