gly humor; and just then, if Phil Bradley had had any sort of
firearm along he would have felt justified in dispatching that furious
animal. Game laws are good things, but even they must be broken when
one's life is placed in jeopardy.

Besides his pocket knife Phil had nothing on his person that could be
called a weapon. For once he had even left his hunting knife at the
cabin, and bitterly he repented of his unusual thoughtlessness. It would
never happen again he told himself, when he realized how helpless he
was.

When the moose again started trying to get at him Phil conceived a new
hope. It was in the shape of an inspiration, and he watched eagerly in
the expectation that such a thing might come to pass.

What if the moose did find a way to crowd his head between two of the
trees, by slanting it sideways; what if in his stupidity he was unable
to extricate it again, and could only tug frantically backwards becoming
excited and helpless?

That would be turning the tables in great shape. Phil had seen cows
confined in stall yokes somewhat after that fashion. He also knew how
green turtles are captured in large mesh nets down along the Florida
coast streams like Indian River; for the stupid creature, having passed
its flippers through the net, and being unable to continue the forward
movement on account of the bulging shell, simply keeps trying to urge
itself on, and never dreaming that it could back out by reversing its
flippers.

There was one particular place where Phil thought the chances seemed
fairly good that the horns of the moose might pass through, provided he
turned his head the proper way.

In order to try out his scheme he did all in his power to coax the
animal to begin operations in that section. For a while it seemed as
though the moose persistently avoided the larger opening. Everywhere
else he struggled the best he knew how to reach the prisoner of the
saplings, even pawing viciously at him with his hoofs.

"I must make a big bluff of meaning to slip out through that hole," Phil
told himself; "and when he gets around there perhaps he'll fall into the
trap."

This he immediately started to carry out. It worked like a charm, too,
for he had barely time to dodge back into his asylum when his captor
came up against the tree next the wider opening with a bang.

After that Phil easily led him into making a fresh effort to insert his
horned head through that opening. Eagerly the boy watched every