indifferent to the mosquitoes, and his strained attention flagged.
Drowsiness crept upon him again; he was very tired. He found himself
nodding, and roused himself with a shock of horror. He thought that he
would go down to the river and dip his head into the water. He dozed
while he was thinking of it--dozed and awoke, and dozed again.

Then after what seemed a moment's interval he was awakened by a harsh
voice shouting:--

"Hands up! Wake up, and surrender!"

CHAPTER XV

Half awake, Fred made a blind snatch at the rifle that had been across
his lap. It was gone.

The sky was bright with dawn. Ten feet away stood three men with
leveled rifles. Horace and Mac were sitting up, holding their hands
above their heads and looking dazed.

"I said you pups wouldn't bark so loud next time," remarked one of the
newcomers. It was the man that had pretended to be a ranger. With him
was the slim, dark fellow whom they had seen outside the trappers'
shack, and the third was a tall, elderly, bearded man, who looked more
intelligent and more vicious than the others.

None of the boys said anything, but Horace gave Fred a reproachful
glance that almost broke his heart. It was his fault that this had
happened, and he knew it. Tears of rage and shame started to his eyes.
He looked about desperately for a weapon. He would gladly risk his
life to get his companions out of the awkward scrape into which his
negligence had plunged them. But the ranger had taken the boys' rifle,
and the half-breed had picked up the shotgun.

With a grin of triumph the trappers went to the fox cage, peered at the
animals, and talked eagerly in low voices. The boys watched them in
suspense. Were they going to kill the foxes?

Presently two of the men picked up the cage and carried it down to the
river. The light was strong enough now so that Fred could see the bow
of a bark canoe drawn up on the shore. They put the cage into the
canoe. Then the half-breed laid his rifle and the stolen shotgun
beside it, and paddled down the river. The other two men lifted the
boys' Peterboro into the water.

"You aren't going to rob us of our firearms and our canoe, too, are
you?" cried Horace desperately. "You might as well murder us!"

"Guess you won't need the guns," said the third trapper. "You've got
grub, I see, and we durstn't leave you any canoe to foller us up in."

The two men pushed off the Peterboro and followed the birch ca