LAYING PLANS TO HELP OBED
It was only natural that Steve, always headstrong and impulsive, should
be eager to find out what kind of plan might be arranged looking to
keeping watch and ward over the fur farm during the nights to come. He
had been impressed with the signs of anxiety which Obed plainly
betrayed, when speaking of his belief concerning some sort of plot being
hatched up against his peace of mind, and which would bring about the
ultimate ruination of his unique and intensely interesting undertaking.
To Steve, the idea of a miserable rascal sneaking up in the night to
destroy all that poor hardworking Obed had built up after many moons,
was simply terrible. The more he considered it the greater became his
secret anger; and of course this meant that his liking for the boy fur
farmer grew in proportion.
During the afternoon, as the shadows began to lengthen perceptibly,
Steve found occasion to broach the subject to his three chums. Max had
come out of the cabin; evidently he had tired of looking over the books,
which might do very well to pass away a long evening, or a rainy day
when time dragged, but could not chain him down long when the sun was
shining, the breeze rustling through the many-colored leaves still on
the trees, and with all Nature beckoning.
So Steve crooked his finger toward Bandy-legs and Toby, lounging near
by; and being in a humor themselves for any sort of thing, the pair
hastened to join him. And Max, upon being pounced upon by the balance of
the crowd, looked askance, knowing that something was in the wind.
"Strikes me, fellows," commenced Steve, "that We ought to be figuring on
what we expect to do tonight."
"Huh! as for me," quickly responded Bandy-legs, "I'm expecting to do my
share about slingin' together a dandy spread, with some of the fine grub
we fetched along. This mountain air is something terrible when it comes
to toning up _jaded appetites_. I feel as if I had a vacuum down about
my middle all the time. I'm beginning to be alarmed about my condition.
If it keeps on it's going to mean bankruptcy for my folks, that's all."
"About me, now," added Toby Jucklin, briskly, "I'm hoping to g-g-get a
b-b-bully g-g-good sleep tonight; unless Max fixes it so we have to
t-t-take t-t-turns standing sentry duty."
Steve looked disgusted.
"Oh! rats! I didn't mean anything like that, and you both know it," he
told the two grinning chums. "What I was referring to was on the point
of duty. We've agreed to stand back of our new friend, Obed, and see to
it that he isn't robbed of the proceeds of his industry by unscrupulous
scoundrels; and we've got to make good!"
"Hear! hear!" ejaculated Toby, pretending to clap his hands in applause.
"Steve, you're exhausting all the big words in the dictionary, with your
high-flown language," warned Bandy-legs in mock severity. "But I get
your meaning, all the same, and I also agree with your noble sentiments.
Sure we're expecting to stand up for Obed and his pets; and we're
likewise intending to make it hot for any old terrapin who comes
creeping around here with the idea of making way with the wearers of
that expensive fur. How about it, Max?"
"That's a settled thing," readily replied the one appealed to, and whose
opinion, it was plain to be seen, would swing things one way or another,
since the other fellows were in the habit of looking up to Max as their
leader. "We can fix it up in regular orthodox style, each fellow having
two hours on duty, and the rest of the night for sleep. Does that strike
you as about right?"
"Well," remarked Steve, proudly, "it won't be the first occasion when
this bunch has had to stand guard, not by a long sight. I can look back
and see many a night when we had to keep an anchor to windward, or else
lose something we prized a heap. Ever since we dug up all those mussels
in the Big Sunflower, and found dandy pearls inside some of them, it
seems to me we've had occasion from time to time to be envied by other
people, and had to keep watch so we wouldn't be robbed. Oh! standing
sentry is an old trick with us!"
"For my p-p-part," remarked Toby, yawning as he spoke, "I'd much rather
think up some g-g-good s-s-scheme that would ease the s-s-strain, and
allow us to s-s-sleep through the entire night."
"Please explain what you mean by saying that, Toby," demanded Steve;
"you do get off the most mysterious communications sometimes, and muddle
us all up."
"But there isn't anything q-q-queer about this, Steve," protested Toby.
"All of you know I've been a g-g-great h-h-hand to make m-m-machinery
take the place of h-h-hand power. What's the need of our s-s-staying
awake p-p-part of the night, even, if by cudgeling our brains we
c-c-could think up some g-g-good s-s-scheme that would answer the same
purpose?"
"I can see _you_ cudgeling your poor brains, all right, Toby," sneered
Steve, who apparently did not take a great deal of stock in the other's
ability for conceiving clever ideas: "and a pretty mess you'd make of
it, in the bargain. Take it from me, they're cudgeled enough as it is."
"That will do for you, Steve," said Max. "I understand just what Toby
means, and it's along the right line too. This is the age of progress,
and up-to-date people don't want to depend on the old-time methods that
were good enough for their grandfathers. Toby thinks one of us might
suggest a scheme whereby we could guard the fox farm, and at the same
time obtain our full quota of sleep. In other words, rig up a dummy to
stand our trick as sentry. Isn't that it, Toby?"
"J-j-just what I had in my mind, Max," snapped Toby; "and any silly
c-c-could easy see that."
"Sure, and the wise ones had to be told," chirped Steve, jauntily. "But
never mind arguing, Toby; it's all right, and I'm only joking. I get the
idea; and now, has any one a scheme on tap that would apply to the
case?"
Toby scratched his head as though he considered that, having been the
first to make the suggestion, it was up to him to say something, no
matter how.
"Well, there's the spring-gun trap, you know," he remarked, without once
stuttering, which fact proved that he was deliberately taking his time
about answering.
"What sort of arrangement do you call that, I'd like to know!" asked
Steve.
"S-s-say, you a hunter, and never heard about the s-s-spring-gun trap?"
exclaimed Toby, scornfully. "Well, I'll try to explain, if you give me a
little t-t-time, and don't r-r-rush me too much. You see, a gun is
f-f-fastened to the ground, and aiming along a certain avenue that the
intended thief has just g-g-got to use in c-c-coming up to the b-b-bait.
Then a c-c-cord is s-s-strung so the thief p-p-presses against the
s-s-same, just like Max here fixes his c-c-camera nights, when he wants
to s-s-snap off a skunk or a 'coon by flashlight. Well, the g-g-gun goes
off, and f-f-fills Mister Thief with number twelve birdshot. When you
hear the c-c-crash, and his howls, why, you just s-s-saunter out and
f-f-fetch in the s-s-spoils. There, do you understand about the
s-s-spring-gun trap now, Steve?"
"Oh! I knew all that before, only you mixed me up by giving it that
name," the other hastily replied. "But it strikes me that'd be a pretty
rough deal for us to play. It might answer if the thief were an animal,
but a human being is different."
"All the same," retorted Toby, savagely, "he's a t-t-thief, and outside
the p-p-pale of the law."
"Just so," Steve went on, and Max was surprised at his moderation,
because, as a rule, Steve had always been the most reckless one of the
crowd; "but suppose now we found that we'd done more than we calculated
on, Toby? A charge of small birdshot starts out on its errand a whole
lot like a bullet. It doesn't commence to scatter till it gets just so
far away from the muzzle of the gun; depending on the size of the bore,
and the way the barrel is choked. I've known a charge of shot to tear a
hole right through a board when fired at close range. At a distance it
would only have scattered out, and peppered the whole fence. And, Toby,
we might feel rather bad if we found we'd killed a man, even if he was a
thief!"
Toby did not answer to that fling. The truth of the matter was he
shivered at the gruesome picture Steve's words drew before his mental
vision; for Toby was not at all bloodthirsty.
Max now took a hand in the conversation.
"Listen, fellows," he went on to say, "it strikes me that when we set
about discussing this matter, we ought to remember that there's one chap
who's considerably more interested in the outcome than any of us can
ever be."
"'Course you mean Obed when you say that, Max?" ventured Bandy-legs.
"He's the one," the other admitted. "And we ought to invite him to join
us in figuring out our plans. Now, it may be Obed will have a scheme of
his own that'd knock any we might think up all silly. I'll call him
over, and tell him what we're trying to arrange."
It happened that just then Obed was passing on his way to the cabin. He
had been working somewhere amidst his enclosures, perhaps making certain
preparations for insuring the safety of his valuable furry pets, should
a descent on the farm come about during the hours of darkness.
Obed hastened to join them. His questioning look influenced Max to
explain without hesitation; and the woods boy smiled broadly when he
heard how his new-found friends were already taking so decided an
interest in his fortunes.
"Now, it might be," he started to say, again looking serious, "that all
this fuss ain't worth the candle, and that nothin' 's going to happen;
but I believe in shuttin' the door _before_ the hoss is stolen; it's too
late afterwards. I haven't got the time right now to tell yuh jest how I
learned that my foxes was agoin' tuh be in danger; somebody I knew wrote
me a letter, and warned me, which'll have tuh be enuff jest now tuh
explain. Since I got that same, three days back, I've been figgerin' on
how I could fix up a trap tuh ketch any two-legged varmint that chanced
tuh come sneakin' around here of a night. Well, I got one er two tricks
rigged up that might fill the bill."
"Of course you mean to show them to us, Obed?" Steve burst out with;
"for if you didn't, and we were left in charge here, one of us might
fall into the pit, and get knocked out, which would be tough luck, I'm
thinking."
"Oh! I meant to show you, Steve," asserted the fur farmer, quickly. "And
if so be yuh'll come along with me right now, we'll take a look at the
contraptions, which, of course, yuh understand, are only meant for
night-times, and tuh help out when Jerry wouldn't be around for me to
sorter lean on."
Being boys who did things themselves, it was only natural that the four
chums should feel a decided interest in what Obed had just said. Even
Max showed an eagerness to go forth and examine the said traps. He could
speculate as to what their character might turn out to be, but this
only added a little more spice to the occasion.
So when Obed turned and started off, with a beckoning finger that
enticed them to follow his lead, none of the quartette held back.