HUNTER AND TRAPPER
The boys surveyed the speaker for a moment with great interest. His appearance was rugged and honest, and a kindly light beamed from a pair of keen, gray eyes. Open air life had bronzed his skin until it was almost as brown as an Indian's. He stooped slightly, but all his movements showed that a life amid danger had made him exceedingly active and alert.
"I'm John Yardsley, at your service," he repeated, "an' powerful glad ter see yer. Step inter my office," and he waved his hand toward the door.
"Well, Yardsley, we're glad to meet you, too," said Nat, with his old-time, easy familiarity. "We're the Bounding Brotherhood of Hunters—members, warble out your names."
"Ha, ha!" laughed John Yardsley. "Bounding Brotherhood, ha, ha! Did you do some bounding yisterday mornin'?"
He broke into a short laugh, and pushed the door open to its fullest extent, while the boys crowded in.
At one end of the interior, they saw a big stove, and near the window a long table. A bunk occupied one corner, while several rude stools were scattered around.
But what interested the visitors most of all were a number of stuffed animals and birds which rested on various shelves. Each was in a natural position and looked quite life-like with its yellow glass eyes.
"This your work, Yardsley?" asked Nat, forgetting, for the moment, that he had intended to hurl forth a lot of questions.
"Everything mine," answered the trapper, with a smile.