e?" asked Frank, as he bent down to
examine the way in which each skin was carefully stretched out on its
little frame.

"Along the edge o' the swamp half a mile off. They's jest rafts o' 'em
thar. As a rule the pelts bring about fifteen cents each, but jest now
thar's quite a boom on, an' I reckon I'll git sixty apiece."

"That's fine. What else do you catch here in season?" asked Jerry.

"Wall, a few mink, not many, once in a long while an otter, fur which I
git twenty dollars. Then I caught three bobcats last winter, seven foxes,
eleven 'coon, half a dozen 'possums, an' two black b'ars, though one o'
them I shot arter we had a right lively argyment."

"Whew! then there _are_ bears around here?" asked Will, eagerly; "what
wouldn't I give to get a picture of one in its wild state?"

The old man laughed.

"Kinder risky business a shootin' _that_ thing at a b'ar, 'specially a
she-b'ar as has young uns nigh. Like as not she'd rush ye. Now, I got a
skin here with the head on it, an' if it comes to the wust we might rig
that up, natural like, so ye cud git a picter o' a wild an' ferocious
beast coming at ye on his hind legs."

"Oh! I hope I won't have to descend to a fake like that. But we've come
to put in the day with you, Jesse. Show us how you set your traps,
won't you?"

"Sartin I will. Was jest startin' out for a turn when ye showed up; so
s'pose ye drop in line. It won't take more'n an hour or two, boys."

They were delighted at the chance, Will lugging his camera along, though
the old trapper cast a dubious eye on the affair, as if he did not wholly
like the idea of visiting his traps with such a "contraption," something
unheard of in his experience.

"Now, don't even whisper, fellers. Here's the swamp and my traps begins
clost by. I'll show ye all about it by signs. Dumb trappers is most
successful, they sez," remarked Jesse, holding up his hand.

The three boys followed close at his heels, each picking his way, and
walking on his tiptoes, as though that would make any difference.

So they entered the edge of the swamp.

Suddenly the man came to a halt and stooping, pointed ahead.

"Looky yonder," he whispered hoarsely, "that's somebody stealing out o'
my traps!"

CHAPTER VIII

WHERE IS BLUFF?

"Where?" gasped Will, making as if anxious to get a snapshot of the thief
in the very act.

"Keep quiet!" whispered Frank, giving him a push.

There was some one bending over the edge of the w