After the meal, Yardsley exhibited a number of beaver, otter and mink skins stretched out tightly on boards to dry. He also called attention to a curious piece of furniture standing in one corner. A section of a tree had been hollowed out, and the interior fitted with a number of shelves, which contained various objects collected in the woods. There were butterflies, moths and dragon flies, besides a number of minerals and stones.
"As I said afore," remarked the trapper, seating himself, "I ain't got as much book learnin' as I'd like," he smiled curiously, "but ask me somethin' about trees, or birds, or animals, an' well—mebbe I could make some of your dandified professors look cheap, if they was here. Eddication, I call it, is l'arnin' about the things 'round you—varmints and sich like—an' my friend, the animalist, said so, too."
"There's one thing you can do, all right, Bardsley," interrupted Musgrove.
"What's that?"
"Talk a fierce streak—I never heard nothing like it."
Yardsley laughed good-naturedly. "It's another failin', mebbe," he admitted. "Now I'm goin' ter spin some yarns."
These proved so interesting, that it was not until the late afternoon that the boys took their leave.
"An' look here, Jardsley," remarked Musgrove, at parting, "don't try no funny tricks now. We won't stand for none—no, sir—not me—nor Tim, neither."
"You certainly bit easily on one joke, Mushroom," remarked Hackett, when Yardsley's hut was lost to view behind the trees.
"Huh! You needn't talk! I never slammed no glass-eyed cat!" retorted Billy, and for the rest of the way there was no further conversation between the two.