e of wood mice. Unable to get her cubs out of the cage, the
mother had brought them food.

It seemed too bad to take advantage of her mother love, but as Horace
remarked, all they desired was to restore her to her family; once on
the fox ranch, she would be treated like a queen.

They put the cage farther back and piled rocks round it, so that it
could be approached only by one narrow path. In the path they placed
the trap, and again covered it carefully with leaves.

The cubs had to be left for another night, and the boys had another
hard day of waiting. None of them had the heart to try to prospect.
Macgregor went after ducks with the shotgun; the others lounged about,
and killed time as best they could. They all went to bed early, and
before sunrise again started for the den.

It was fully light when they came to the hill over the ravine, and as
they sighted the den, a cry of excitement broke from all three of them
at once.

From where they stood they could see the cage, and the crouching form
of a black animal beside it, evidently in the trap. And over the beast
with the dark fur stood a man in a buckskin jacket, with a club raised
to strike.

CHAPTER XIII

Fred and Mac, who were carrying the guns, fired wildly at the man at
the trap; they took no aim, for their only purpose was to startle him
and to keep him from killing the fox. When the shots rang out, the man
straightened up, saw the boys rushing down the hill toward him, and
dropped his club. Stepping back, he picked up his rifle, and as they
dashed up, held it ready to shoot.

Fred gave a whoop when he saw that the animal in the trap was really a
black fox; moreover, it was the mother fox. Her black coat was glossy
and spotless.

Horace turned to the man. "Let that fox alone!" he cried. "That's our
fox!"

"Yours? It's my fox!" retorted the man angrily. "Why, that's my trap!"

"I don't believe it; we found it in the woods. Anyway, you can have
the trap if you like, but the fox is certainly ours. We've been after
her for some time."

"Me and my pardners have been after this fox all winter," declared the
trapper. "Now that we've got her we 're going to keep her--you can bet
on that."

He made a movement toward the fox.

"None of that!" cried Mac, sharply, and snapped a fresh cartridge into
the rifle chamber.

"You would, would you?" cried the trapper, and instantly covered Peter
with his gun. Fred had reloaded the shotgu