those eagles for the professor.

Full of this plan, he led Keno to the stable, unsaddled and fed him,
and then, while waiting for his mother to call him in to dinner,
skinned the mink he had trapped. His active mind was busy devising
the best way of securing the prize.

In the house, he found his mother less dejected than usual; doubtless
the doctor's visit had had a cheering effect upon her. However,
Ralph said nothing to her of his new hopes, because, after all, they
might prove too slender to build upon; they might lead only to
disappointment. He plunged at once into a lively account of his
morning's hunt, and from that he went on to discuss with her the
first steps to take in the early planting.

The next morning Ralph was up before sunrise. Instead of bringing
his trapping to an abrupt end, he decided to get up at an earlier
hour than before, in order to have time for his daily rounds of
visiting the traps. He did not know which day the professor might
choose for coming in quest of the golden eagles, and he was determined
that no one should get ahead of him.

"After all, he can't come hunting up here on our land without my
permission, for that would be trespassing," reflected Ralph. "And
if he should turn up, I can tell him that I'm on the job, myself."

Two busy days passed. While attending to his traps, in the early
hours, Ralph never once allowed his rifle to lie beyond his reach;
yet a third day went by, and he had no chance for a shot at the
coveted birds of prey. Several times he caught sight of them
hovering above the gray cliffs where he knew they were preparing
to build a nest, but each time they were too far away to risk a shot.

And still no sign of the professor, or of anyone else in pursuit
of the eagles. Had the professor gone away from Oakvale, or,
on a hint from Doctor Kane, was he merely waiting and giving Ralph
every chance to earn the money? If the latter were the case, it was
quite unlikely that Professor Whalen would share the secret of his
discovery with any other possible hunter.

* * * * * * *

Several miles away from the Kenyon farm, on the shore of Pioneer Lake,
which was separated from the farm by the rugged slopes of old
Stormberg and the adjacent hills, was a fair-sized camp which bore
the same name as the lake. It was occupied every summer by a troop
of Boy Scouts under the leadership of an ex-officer of the United
States Army. In fact, Pioneer C