The next afternoon they took their guns, and started out on a squirrel-hunt.
They did not have much luck, however.
"Let's go by there, and pull the old pen down," said Frank, as they started homeward from the far side of the woods.
"It's out of the way,—let the old thing rip."
"We'd better pull it down. If a hog were to be caught there, it wouldn't do."
"I wish he would!—but there ain't any hogs going to get caught," growled Willy.
"He might starve to death."
This suggestion persuaded Willy, who could not bear to have anything suffer.
So they sauntered down toward the swamp.
As they approached it, a squirrel ran up a tree, and both boys were after it in a second. They were standing, one on each side of the tree, gazing up, trying to get a sight of the little animal among the gray branches, when a sound came to the ears of both of them at the same moment.