ights of the wonderful farm
the boys headed back again toward the cabin. Max could not but notice
that Obed showed signs of uneasiness while away, and cast frequent
glances in the direction where under those whispering pines and the dark
green hemlocks his lone lodge stood.

Therefore Max was not very much surprised when, as he and Obed strolled
along in the rear of the other three, who were chatting, and arguing
about certain matters, the young fur farmer pressed his arm
confidentially, and went on to say:

"I'd like to tell yuh something, Max, 'cause I own up it's gettin' on my
nerves. I thought nothin' could bother me any, but now that the time is
so close at hand when I mean tuh sell that pair o' grown pups, and get
the money I need so bad, why, things look kinder different. Fact is,
Max," he went on, allowing his voice to sink into a mysterious stage
whisper, "somebody was lookin' around in my cabin while I was down at
your camp last evenin'. I know this because things was more or less
upset; and I reckon my comin' back scared the man away, whoever he may
have been!"

CHAPTER VIII

PRODUCTS OF THE FUR FARM

"That looks bad, Obed," Max hastened to say, feeling a perceptible
thrill at the very thought of being on hand to assist this enterprising
boy defend his property, which he had made so valuable, through his own
efforts in most part. "I saw a smoke last evening, too, which must have
been made by a camp-fire. I wondered if there were deer hunters up here
so early; or if some men might be after your foxes. Of course that idea
only came to me after you had told us about your enterprise, and how
valuable the pelts were."

"It's mighty tough," avowed Obed, between his set teeth, "to be so nigh
success, and then face failure. I've been tempted to signal for Jerry to
come over and help me stand guard a spell. Yuh see, I ought to be on my
way to town with that pair o' nearly-grown young blacks. I know whar I
c'n get more for 'em alive than for their pelts if I took the time to
cure the same, which I don't want to do. Oh! I've just _got_ to sell
'em, and that's all thar is about it. I've dreamed about the day I'd get
that check, and show--er, that lawyer managin' Mr. Coombs' estate that
all I told him was true. Once I have the proof that thar's big money in
raisin' silver blacks, he's promised to do anything in reason I ask."

Max made up his mind on the spot.

"Look here, Obed," was the way he talked, for