Phil Bradley's Mountain Boys Part 12

Then Ethan chuckled.

"I thought that was what it must have been, Phil," he observed, dryly.

"Oh! I see," Lub went on to say; "afraid of the rain, of course. Well, I suppose it would ruin the thing to get it wet."

"Too bad you've had all that work for nothing, Phil," yawning as he said this X-Ray tried to look sympathetic; but was really too sleepy to be anything but ridiculous.

"Oh! I don't know about that," Phil told him, as he picked up the lantern; "I've got a hunch that the thing's been played to the end of the string."

Ethan chuckled some more. Both Lub and X-Ray opened their eyes and began to realize that there was something more to this thing than they had grasped.

"Whatever can you mean by that?" asked Lub; while the fourth boy, quicker to catch things, cried out:

"Oh! then that wasn't a flash of lightning after all, Phil?"

"After a kind, it was," Phil went on to say. "In fact, I believe my trap has been sprung. Mr. 'c.o.o.n was early on the trail to-night. I'd better go and see. If the thing's happened, no need of leaving the camera out all night, and take chances of a shower. Coming along with me, Ethan?"

"Sure thing!" declared the other, who had only been waiting for an invitation, as Phil very well knew from the eager look in his eyes.

They soon arrived on the spot.

"It's all right," observed Phil, immediately.

"Trap's sprung, you mean?" asked his comrade.

"Yes, you can see where the bait has been carried away from the place where I fixed it," he was told, as Phil pointed out where the cord ran.

"I guess the flash gave the poor old 'c.o.o.n the scare of his life," Ethan went on to say, considerably amused.

It was an object with Phil to encourage this interest on the part of his chum. Accordingly, after gathering up the camera and flashlight apparatus he had Ethan closely examine the marks that were plainly seen about the place where the bait had attracted the attention of the little animal.

As has been said before, Ethan was a practical woodsman, and knew a great deal about all things connected with outdoor life. Trailing had long been one of his particular hobbies; hence, he was able to tell just what must have happened there.

"Here's where the 'c.o.o.n came along, just as he'd likely done on many another night when he felt fish hungry. And about here, Phil, he began to get a whiff of that green corn you fetched with you to use as bait."

"How do you make that out?" asked the other, partly for information, and also with the idea of keeping up Ethan's interest, which he could easily see was growing right along.

"Why, the marks have a different look," Ethan explained. "He stopped right here to sniff, and then went forward on the run, all caution thrown to the winds."

"That took him up to the bait?" suggested Phil.

"Yes, and you bet he didn't waste a single second laying hold of the same," Ethan ventured, positively, just as though he might be watching the entire performance with his own eyes, instead of figuring it out.

"Like as not it's been a long time since this particular 'c.o.o.n had a chance at an ear of juicy green corn," observed Phil. "Perhaps he never even saw one before, but his instinct told him what a good thing was when he ran across it."

"As he began to pull at the cob, meaning to carry it off to his den, there came that dazzling white flash," Ethan continued.

"It petrified the 'c.o.o.n for the instant," explained Phil, "that happens in nearly every case. If you look close you'll find that the animal always has a startled expression. I rather think any of us would if a flash like that blinded us just when we'd started to pick up the biggest watermelon in the patch."

"It frightened Mr. 'c.o.o.n away, of course," said Ethan.

"But he may sneak back here again before morning," laughed Phil. "You can see where his teeth cut into the green corn, and the memory of that one taste will make him ready to take chances again."

He dropped the half ear of corn on the ground as he spoke.

"You mean that the poor old chap isn't going to be cheated out of his fine treat, eh, Phil?"

"He deserves something," was the reply, "because I reckon he's given me a cracking good picture. I want him to know I appreciate his pull at my latch string."

This closed the incident, but on the way back Ethan continued to ask numerous questions. These the other always answered to the best of his ability, for it was his desire to interest Ethan more and more.

And Phil felt satisfied when, just before they arrived at the cabin Ethan gave expression to an admission:

"Well, I'm ready to own up, Phil, that if for any reason I couldn't have a gun, or use one because the law was on all game, I _might_ take some stock in hunting by flashlight, and with a camera."

"And the knowledge you have, Ethan, of wild animals' ways would make you a master hand at the game, if ever you bothered taking it up."

"Think so?" remarked the other, naturally pleased at this sort of appreciation on Phil's part.

"I'm sure of it," he was told.

Nothing more was said at the time. Phil felt positive, however, that he could count on Ethan's cooperation so long as they remained at Birch Bark Lodge.

It was not long before they all sought their bunks.

The night pa.s.sed without any alarm. Lub had a.s.sured his comrades they need have no fear of any unwelcome guest dropping down the chimney again. He had insured against such an event happening; and apparently felt the utmost confidence in his own invention, for he seemed to drop asleep almost as soon as he settled down in his blanket.

Again in the morning they enjoyed their plunge in the lake, although Lub had to be strongly urged before he consented to join them.

When he mentioned trout he was gently but firmly told that it was folly to whip a willing horse.

"Don't let's have fish every meal," urged X-Ray Tyson, "or we'll all be sprouting gills and dorsal fins and scales. Once a day after this ought to satisfy the trout hunger. Now it seems to me that's a bully good fire for camp flapjacks."

"Just what it is," agreed Ethan with enthusiasm.

"That suits me all right," Phil agreed, "and we all know the kind you can make, Lub. If you want any help, call on me."

"Oh! it's only a pleasure to me, so long as I know my efforts are appreciated," said Lub, just as they all knew he would.

The flapjacks must have been good, for not a piece of one was left after the four boys had finished breakfast. And they even had the audacity to bait Lub on top of it.

"Don't care how soon you repeat that mess, Lub," observed Phil.

"Never tasted their equal," confessed Ethan.

"And as for me," said the wicked X-Ray, "I'll sure dream of the treat to-night, see if I don't."

Whereupon, of course, Lub set about figuring out just how the little sack of self-raising flour would hold out, if he made flapjacks every single morning of their stay in camp.