The Answer to the Puzzle
After supper that night Ralph and Rob went off to set the flashlight
trap in the mink enclosure. A fresh fish would be the bait to
attract one of the timid little fur-bearing animals to the place;
and the arrangement was such that when he attempted to possess
himself of the tempting morsel, the pull upon a cord would cause the
flashlight to snap off his picture before he could move.
Ralph was very much interested in the venture, and asked enough
questions to give him all necessary information. Apparently he had
taken a great fancy for this new method of “hunting with a camera,”
and would possibly amuse himself frequently later on in securing
various pictures that could not otherwise be obtained.
When they got back, somewhere around nine o’clock, Tubby “wanted to
know,” as he usually did.
“How about that old bobcat, Ralph? Signs of him taking the bait you
left out there for him?” he went on to inquire.
“We didn’t bother going to see,” he was told. “He’s got the whole
night before him to come around. So I’m just living off hope until
Pete makes his report in the morning. I’d hate to have my plans all
knocked silly by the accidental coming of a pair of cats.”
“You’ve got to remember,” Rob warned him, “to set your alarm clock
so you can wake up at three o’clock. You must be on hand before the
first streak of dawn, because if the light strikes in before you get
there the flashlight picture will be ruined.”
“Seems to me,” observed Tubby, thoughtfully, “there ought to be some
little mechanical invention calculated to close the opening of a
camera after just so many seconds have elapsed.”
“Perhaps there is,” Rob went on to say, “but if so I haven’t got the
attachment on my camera. Better get up one yourself, Tubby; there
would be money in it.”
“I’ll think it over,” the stout boy told them. “Sometimes I suspect
that I might make something of a success as an inventor; but so far
things I’ve tried to do just don’t seem to work a little bit. I even
experimented on a flying machine that was going to beat all these
common aeroplanes, and leave them at the stake. But I own up that it
wouldn’t budge me off the ground.”
“Which I should say was the most fortunate thing that ever happened
to you, Tubby,” chuckled Andy. “Falling overboard in the lake is bad
enough, but then you can swim or float; but just think what would
follow if that flying machine ever gave out while you were away up
in the air. Some of the fellows used to call you Punkin once in a
while, but believe me your name would be Squash then.”
Once again it was morning, after another pleasant experience in
which the boys managed to secure enough sleep to make up for the
loss of the preceding night.
Rob, after getting out, wandered around to the barns to see the cows
being milked, and the pigs fed, as well as the chickens and turkeys
and ducks. He loved to watch the big bronze gobbler strut around,
and make all those strange sounds as his wings scraped the ground.
Then the lordly peacocks on the ridge-pole of the big barn emitted a
series of shrill cries as they preened their glorious plumage. When
one of them chose to strut in all his glory on the ground, Rob
thought it was a most astonishing sight.
“Did Peleg happen to come back last night?” he asked one of the men
who was drawing the milk from a fine Jersey cow; Mr. Jeffords wanted
richness rather than quantity, which was the reason he preferred
that strain to the banded Holsteins.
“I guess not,” came the answer--“leastways, I ain’t seen anything ov
him around since the boy rode into town with the lot ov you t’other
evenin’.”
All of which only added to the mystery. Still, another day had come,
and perhaps they would see something of Peleg before nightfall.
Since it was known that he had been within seven miles of the farm
on the preceding day, while visiting his sister, there was a
likelihood of his turning up. Rob was beginning to feel that he
wanted to see the end of this little mystery. Innocent or guilty, he
certainly hoped Peleg would come along before the time set for their
departure arrived.
Just then he sighted Ralph returning. He held the camera safely
under his arm, and if the smile on his face stood for anything, Rob
felt justified in believing that the little venture must have met
with success.
“You got there before the light did, I hope?”
“Oh! yes, just the first peep was coming over in the east when I
arrived and took up the camera. Your scheme worked, too, Rob,
because the bait was gone, and the flashlight cartridge had been
fired in the pan.”
“We’ll find out after breakfast whether the snapshot is any good,”
the scout leader suggested. “If this one proves to be poor, we can
try again tonight, if no signs of rain warn us off. You never can
tell what you get until you develop your film or plate. Some of the
finest exposures I ever took were desperate chances, and that made
the surprise all the more agreeable.”
Later on Rob developed the plate in his daylight tank, and soon
assured the anxious Ralph, who, strange to say, had up to then never
cared for photography, that they had secured a splendid negative. It
showed the cautious mink clearly in the act of taking the fish bait.
“I do believe it’s my old Jinks, as I named the first mature mink I
managed to get hold of!” exclaimed Ralph, minutely examining the
bright negative. “Why, you can see the hair on his back, the detail
work is so perfect. Rob, I’m going to like this thing more than I
can tell you. It opens up a new field for me, and one that seems to
be just to my taste.”
“Best of all,” added the patrol leader, “it doesn’t make any inroads
on the harmless little animals of the woods and swamps. You can get
them at home, and learn more about their nocturnal habits than by
any other known means.”
After the negative had been dried later on in the day, Rob printed
several copies, and passed them around. Even Mr. Jeffords declared
they were very fine, and when he learned how his boy had begun to
take a great interest in the modern way of making the acquaintance
of the timid woods folks, he encouraged Ralph in every way possible
to enlist in the cause.
“Things like this always go to make boys more humane,” the farmer
remarked. “That counts a whole lot. As a rule, they are apt to have
cruel instincts, handed down from their ancestors, who used to have
to depend on killing game to keep themselves alive. It’s about time
something were done to soften some of those savage traits; and I
believe your organization of scouts will do this without making boys
soft, or sissies at the same time.”
Plainly, the seed had fallen on good ground these days around
Wyoming. It seemed to be a foregone conclusion that before a great
while there would spring up an enthusiastic troop of scouts bound to
be a credit to the community.
That whole day passed and still there was no sign of the absent one.
Some of the fellows spoke of it as a strange thing, and also went so
far as to hint to Ralph that it looked as though Peleg may have
concluded he didn’t care to work on the Jeffords’ farm any longer.
Rob noticed that Ralph declined to be drawn into any discussion that
had for its subject the doings of Peleg Pinder. He just shut his
teeth together, and made no comment when Tubby and Andy started
discussing this matter. At the same time Rob was quite positive
Ralph had not forgotten; and he imagined that when another day came
he might make up his mind to start toward Wyoming, bent on settling
the bothersome question once and for all.
During the day no word had come from Pete, so it could be set down
as pretty certain that the second wildcat had not been hovering
around the preserves where Ralph was trying to raise fancy-priced
fur.
“If anything had happened we would have heard,” the owner of the fox
farm told the rest of the boys. “Pete had orders to drop down and
let me know. I’m just about fixing a little telephone service
between my cabin up there and the home place here, so we can talk
without all this running back and forth.”
“Queer how you didn’t think of that long ago,” said Sim. “I’d have
done it in the start.”
“Well, the fact of the matter is,” laughed Ralph, “I put every
dollar I could scrape together or borrow from dad into my first
blacks; and the fencing of that big tract cost a whopping sum
besides. But now I begin to see an outlook ahead; and I’ve also
convinced father that there’s money in the project, so he’s loaning
me another bunch of money.”
“When do you expect to realize something from the sale of skins?”
asked Tubby.
“This winter,” he was told. “I think I shall put over half a dozen
black pelts by that time, some of which ought to fetch nearly top
prices, because the animals are beauts. Then I’ve got a lot of
skunks to get rid of, for they’ve increased rapidly. Needn’t turn
pale, Tubby, because I won’t be raiding their den while you’re
within hundreds of miles of here, so you’re safe. The mink and otter
have yet to prove their value as producers of their species. If all
turns out well there, in another year or so I’ll be on the high-road
to success, and a big one in the bargain.”
All this was very interesting to the other boys. And from time to
time that evening as they sat around they asked additional questions
connected with the unique enterprise that Ralph was engineering,
surely one of the most remarkable that any wideawake American lad
had ever engaged in.
Ralph and Rob had been up again to see that the trap for the wildcat
was properly set. They also had a short chat with Pete, who did not
seem to be at all discouraged because of the failure to secure a
victim on the first trial.
“I’m banking on gettin’ the critter tonight, though,” he announced,
and they knew that he must have some good reason for his belief.
Sure enough, in the morning, when they once more paid a visit to the
fur farm, with Tubby, Sim and Andy tagging along, Pete took them out
to where the trap had been set. He did not say anything, but Rob
could see from the look on his face that he had a surprise in store
for them.
The big cat had been caught, and Pete, coming along at peep of day,
had killed it with a single shot, not wishing the wretched thing to
suffer any more than was necessary. If anything, it was larger than
its mate.
Ralph was feeling quite contented as they came back again to the
house.
“Now there’s only one more thing on my mind,” he remarked to Rob,
and the latter did not have to ask him what that was, for he knew.
He imagined that the invitation to visit Wyoming would be
forthcoming around the lunch hour, for undoubtedly Ralph was growing
tired of waiting for Peleg to show up, and meant to put the whole
thing to a deciding test in the office of that curio dealer.
If such were Ralph’s plans, they were fated never to be carried out.
Rob was swinging idly on the porch seat, all by himself, the other
three being back in the milk room watching the process of
cheese-making under the supervision of Mr. Jeffords, when he saw
Ralph come hastily toward him. Rob had reason to believe that the
other must have been in his den at the barn, since he came from that
direction.
When he saw the strange look on the other’s face, Rob stopped
swinging and awaited his arrival. No sooner had he come up than he
tossed something in Rob’s lap.
“I want somebody to kick me,” said Ralph bitterly, “for I sure
deserve it. Those packets are the missing stamps, and where do you
think I found them but behind my trunk, where they must have been
blown by a passing gust of wind!”