d not only did he set
fourteen of the thirty-five traps, but each set was minutely examined
and approved by the critical eye of 'Merican Joe. When the last trap was
set, the Indian commenced the construction of deadfalls, and again
Connie became a mere spectator. And a very interested spectator he was
as he watched every movement of 'Merican Joe who, with only such
material as came to hand on the spot, and no tools except his belt ax
and knife, constructed and baited his cunningly devised deadfalls. These
traps were built upon stumps and logs and were of the common
figure-of-four type familiar to every schoolboy. The weight, or fall
log, was of sufficient size to break the back of a marten.

"De steel trap she bes'," explained the Indian. "She easy to set, an'
she ketch mor' marten. Wit' de steel trap if de marten com' 'long an'
smell de bait he mus' got to put de foot in de trap--but in de deadfall
she got to grab de bait an' give de pull to spring de trap. But, de
deadfall don't cost nuttin', an' if you go far de steel trap too mooch
heavy to carry. Dat why I set de steel trap in close, an' de deadfall
far out."

For four days the two continued to set deadfalls. The last two days
they packed their sleeping bags, camping where night overtook them, and
the evening of the fourth day found them with an even two hundred traps
and thirty lynx snares set, and a trap line that was approximately fifty
miles long and so arranged that either end was within a half mile of the
cabin.

"We go over de snare line in de swamp tomor'," said 'Merican Joe, as
they sat that night at their little table beside the roaring sheet-iron
stove, "an' next day we start over de trap line."

"About how many marten do you think we ought to catch?" asked Connie.

The Indian shrugged: "Can't tell 'bout de luck--sometam lot of
um--sometam mebbe-so not none."

"What do you mean by a lot?" persisted the boy.

"Oh, mebbe-so, twenty--twenty five."

"About one marten for every eight or ten traps," figured the boy.

The Indian nodded. "You set seven steel trap an' catch wan marten, dat
good. You set ten deadfall an' ketch wan marten, dat good, too."

"We've got six lynx snares down in the swamp to look at tomorrow. How
many lynx are we going to get?"

'Merican Joe grinned. "Mebbe-so not none--mebbe-so one, two. Dat all tam
bes' we count de skin w'en we git hom'."

"Don't count your chickens before they're hatched, eh?" laughed Connie.

The Ind