l
that he replied.

When the smoke of battle had cleared away a co-partnership was formed.
The terms were quickly arranged on a fifty-fifty basis; but the more
important matter of selecting a name required some little time and a
great deal of discussion.

"Why not call it Tobin & Cane Cat Company?" suggested Gizzard with his
customary modesty.

Sube shook his head. "That wouldn't do, 'cause we might want to catch
other wild animals besides cats," he explained.

"What other wild animals? I'd like to know."

"Oh, any wild animals that happened to come prowlin' around."

"Name some of 'em," Gizzard persisted.

"Woodchucks, foxes,--skunks--"

"Say," interrupted Gizzard, "you can have my share of all the skunks you
catch in that net! But I won't help you. You couldn't fool the p'fessor
on a skunk, anyway! He'd jus' get out his little magnifyin'-glass and
hold it over a skunk for about a minute-- And besides--"

"All right," Sube agreed; "we won't catch any skunks if you don't want
to. But we could! And hey! I got a name!"

"What?"

"Let's call it Cane & Tobin--Big Game!"

And although Gizzard felt that the euphonic effect of Tobin & Cane would
have been an improvement, he acquiesced.

The new concern opened for business at once, and within half an hour had
made its first capture. The hunters were stealing cautiously past a
neighbor's garden, carrying the net between them, when Sport, Sube's
dog, chased a large tiger cat out from between the rows of corn and
directly into the net. The boys did little except to drop the net and
keep out of reach of the snarling, spitting, clawing beast until it had
become involved beyond possibility of escape.

Carefully carrying the net on two sticks, they bore their prey to their
place of business, where they made ready for his accommodation a cage
that had once housed a thriving family of rabbits. Before attempting to
incarcerate him, however, they formally christened him Gyp the Blood.

Gyp had not occupied the net for any great length of time, but he had
become very much attached to it, and vigorously resisted all efforts to
deprive him of its clinging comfort. Force and strategy were tried in
vain. Then Sube suggested the use of hypnotism.

"You see," he explained, "if I could charm 'im like they do snakes, he'd
be as gentle as a little rabbit, and I could untangle 'im from that net
as easy as unrollin' a piece of paper."

"Snake charmin' is all right if it works; b