found a number
of opportunities to add to his interesting collection of flashlight
pictures. He made a specialty of the fox farm, and with the assistance
of the young owner, managed to snap off the timid occupants of the
enclosures in the act of feeding, as well as under various other equally
instructive conditions; all of which would give a pretty good idea of
how progressive fur farmers manage their outfit.

The wounded man grew better, so that when it was time for them to leave,
he could take his part in the procession; though the others declined to
let him burden himself with any of the duffle, since he was still weak.

Max had been studying Robert, and reached the conclusion that the young
man was heartily ashamed of his miserable plotting. He hoped it would
be a good lesson calculated to serve Robert the rest of his life; and if
this turned out to be so, then that stumble of his, unfortunate as it
may have seemed to him at the time, was the best thing that had ever
happened to him.

The two marketable fox pups were placed securely in the cage that had
been secured for this very purpose by Roland when last in the city. It
weighed very little, and could be easily transported like an ordinary
pack on the back. Roland himself meant to carry it, but of course the
others insisted on "spelling" him from time to time.

Really, when the fateful morning hour came, and they turned back to give
a last fond look at the little lodge under the green pines, Max and his
three chums were conscious of a strange feeling of keen regret around
the region of their hearts; which proved how the woods home of Roland
had grown upon them.

"I certainly do hope those pictures will turn out to be daisies, Max."
Steve was heard to say, most earnestly; "because I'll take a heap of
satisfaction in recalling many of the pleasant things that have happened
to us up here, where the breeze is always telling tales to the pinetops;
and it's nice to be able to see what your mind is centered on."

"But look here," said Roland, delighted to hear Steve talk in that
strain; "you mustn't think that even if I do succeed to that jolly
little fortune left by my real uncle, and not one of the Grimeses, that
I'm meaning to drop this fox farm business. By now it's got a deep hold
on me, and I'm more bent than ever on making it a big success. Yes, and
I'm also counting on you fellows paying me another visit some other
time, the sooner the better."

They ass