was full of them--Flora
was to have all the perfumery she wanted. So she was comforted, and in
time--a very short time--forgot all about the robin. Bertie set his
trap, and waited. Nobody believed in the musk-rat but Flora. She had
faith in the success of all Bertie's undertakings. Everybody else
laughed at him for his pains. Charley said he was a "goney," whatever
that may be, and Amy advised him to turn his attention to something
sensible. He travelled down to the spring every morning before
breakfast, and with quickly beating heart examined the trap. There was
nothing in it, but there were tracks all around. He resolved to follow
up those tracks, and see what would come of them. It was a long walk to
the spring, and a lonely walk. Other traps were set thereabouts, but
their owners lived near by, or came from the upper road. Of course he
never asked for Charley's company. Charley had no faith, and he
ridiculed the idea of going so often on a wild-goose chase. But Bertie
reasoned within himself,--other fellows caught musk-rats, why should not
he? His traps were as good as theirs, his bait the same. To be sure he
never had caught one, but that was no reason he never should. There must
be a first time for every thing. And when he did trap one, wouldn't
Charley change his tune? The spring was alive with musk-rats. One
_should_ find the way into his trap. He hoped it would be a "buster." He
was on the road to the spring, when these thoughts passed through his
mind. There had been a white frost, and the air was keen. He thrust his
hands into his pockets, and ran along, whistling cheerfully. His
spirits were light, and his hopes high. He half expected to find a
musk-rat in his trap. He had made the path to it so easy and inviting,
surely something must have found the way thither. Not a musk-rat,
perhaps, but something. When he got there, he was surprised to find a
boy examining his trap. It was not an agreeable surprise, for the boy
was Jack Midnight; the very last person in the world with whom he
desired to have any dealings. It was the same Jack who dishonestly made
way with Charley's calico rooster. Bertie was angry. Without stopping to
inquire into the circumstances, as he would have done if it had been any
other boy, he at once jumped to a wrong conclusion. He thought that Jack
was plotting mischief, and without waiting for his hot blood to cool, he
called, quickly,

"Come out of that!"

"Do you know what you are gabb