. It was quite
provoking, for to-morrow would be Sunday. Of course he could not travel
down to the spring on Sunday, and Monday was so far off! He declared
that he could not wait till Monday. But there was no help for it. The
hours were not at all disposed to humor his impatience. They moved along
at their usual slow pace, and wore away minute by minute, as was their
custom. But they brought Monday morning at last. He rose early, and set
out in quite a hopeful mood; but as he walked, his spirits began to
flag. The nearer he got to the spring, the less hope he had. He was
trying to prepare himself for the very worst that could happen--a trap
with nothing in it--when somebody called "Hooray!" It was Jack, who had
been waiting almost an hour. When he saw Bertie coming, he danced and
threw his arms about in a manner wonderful to behold. Bertie started
into a run, for he inferred from Jack's antics that something unusual
had happened.

"Hooray!" cried Jack again, as Bertie came up, panting and blowing equal
to Jack himself, who always breathed as if he had been running.

"What have you got to say to _that_ critter?"

Bertie could hardly believe his eyes, for they rested on the biggest
musk-rat he had ever seen. It was a beauty, too! Such dark fur! And such
a length of smooth, hairless tail! Bertie was delighted; and though the
musk-rat was a large one, his eyes magnified it to such a degree that
it looked three times as large as it really was.

[Illustration: What have you got to say to that critter?--p. 78.]

"That is a sight worth looking at, ain't it now?"

"It is a buster!" said Bertie.

"It is the biggest fellow that has been trapped this season. You won't
catch nary 'nother like _him_. He is a whopper!"

"And it is alive, too!"

"Half and half. He is hurt that bad, it won't take much to finish him.
He would show fight if he wasn't dead beat. Shall I pop him over?"

"I don't want to kill him," said Bertie.

"Have you had a fair squint at him?"

"Yes."

"I won't be long settling of his hash."

Jack tapped him on the head with a stone, and after a few shivers the
animal was still.

"That killed him so sudden he didn't know what was a hurting of him."

"Why did he shiver then?"

"They always do that. They always wiggle when the heart's a-beating.
They are dead all the same, though. Now you want to take his hide off."

"Not yet," said Bertie, quickly.

"Better be a doing of it while he is warm."

"