John Yardsley began to smile.
"I've got one failin'," he admitted, "an' I can't help it."
"An' you fired snowballs at 'em?"
Yardsley chuckled.
"Well, see here!" Musgrove's face assumed an angry expression. "I don't like them jokes—no, sir—it's good that you didn't try 'em on me an' Tim Sladder—'cause we don't stand for nothing like that. No, sir!"
This very frank statement seemed to amuse the trapper hugely. He broke into a laugh. Then turning toward the others, he said, "I seen you fellers several times, I guess, when you didn't think no one was near. I can't help jokin'. I hope you don't take no offense, but I says to myself, 'A few little tricks an' them fellers will pack up an' git back to their own little firesides.'"
"Humph! You didn't think we had much sand, did you?" sniffed John Hackett.
"A feller without it ain't got no business out in the woods. I was only a-testin' of you."
"I'm glad you didn't do none of it on us," remarked Musgrove. "No, sir!—Lay down, Bowser."
"There's another thing we'd like to know," broke in Tom Clifton, rather timidly. "Have you heard any strange cries lately? Some animal was prowling around our camp, and—"