woods boy had passed
outside again, Max Hastings might have been seen to hurriedly turn back
to the blank pages at the front of the book, scan several initials that
were plainly written there, and then nod his head mysteriously, with a
smile that gradually crept across his whole face; just as though
something pleased him, which, for the time being, he chose to keep to
himself.

CHAPTER IX

LAYING PLANS TO HELP OBED

It was only natural that Steve, always headstrong and impulsive, should
be eager to find out what kind of plan might be arranged looking to
keeping watch and ward over the fur farm during the nights to come. He
had been impressed with the signs of anxiety which Obed plainly
betrayed, when speaking of his belief concerning some sort of plot being
hatched up against his peace of mind, and which would bring about the
ultimate ruination of his unique and intensely interesting undertaking.

To Steve, the idea of a miserable rascal sneaking up in the night to
destroy all that poor hardworking Obed had built up after many moons,
was simply terrible. The more he considered it the greater became his
secret anger; and of course this meant that his liking for the boy fur
farmer grew in proportion.

During the afternoon, as the shadows began to lengthen perceptibly,
Steve found occasion to broach the subject to his three chums. Max had
come out of the cabin; evidently he had tired of looking over the books,
which might do very well to pass away a long evening, or a rainy day
when time dragged, but could not chain him down long when the sun was
shining, the breeze rustling through the many-colored leaves still on
the trees, and with all Nature beckoning.

So Steve crooked his finger toward Bandy-legs and Toby, lounging near
by; and being in a humor themselves for any sort of thing, the pair
hastened to join him. And Max, upon being pounced upon by the balance of
the crowd, looked askance, knowing that something was in the wind.

"Strikes me, fellows," commenced Steve, "that We ought to be figuring on
what we expect to do tonight."

"Huh! as for me," quickly responded Bandy-legs, "I'm expecting to do my
share about slingin' together a dandy spread, with some of the fine grub
we fetched along. This mountain air is something terrible when it comes
to toning up _jaded appetites_. I feel as if I had a vacuum down about
my middle all the time. I'm beginning to be alarmed about my condition.
If it keeps on it's