s tied to the trigger showed that a ground squirrel had been at
work. The third trap was also sprung, and the shrill, piping notes of
alarm which came to their ears when Bert stopped the wagon, told them
that they had made their first capture. Jumping quickly out of the
wagon the boys made their way into the bushes, and when they came
within sight of the trap they found that it was so full that the
little prisoners had scarcely room to turn about.

"Here's the first instalment of your hundred and fifty dollars,
Dave," cried Don. "We've got more than a dozen, I know!"

Having stopped up the ends of the trenches so that the quails could
not escape, Don thrust his arm through the opening in the top of the
trap and began passing out the birds to his brother and David, who
carried them to the wagon and put them into the coop. He counted them
as he took them out, and found that there were nearer two dozen than
one, twenty being the exact number. One, however, escaped from Bert,
who, through fear of injuring it, handled it too tenderly.

"Never mind," said Don, when his brother told him of the loss. "He'll
go off and join some other flock, so we are bound to catch him
anyhow. I call this a good beginning, don't you, Dave? It looks now
as though you were going to earn your money in spite of Lester and
Dan."

After re-setting the trap the boys got into the wagon and drove on.
They found some of their traps just as they had left them; a few had
been thrown by ground squirrels or red-birds; and from the others
they took enough quails to make their day's catch amount to a little
over four dozen. These were all safely transferred to the cabin, the
mule was unharnessed and the young trappers, greatly encouraged by
their success, replenished the fire in the shop, for the day was raw
and chilly, and went to work to build more traps.

CHAPTER XII.

WHERE THE POINTER WAS.

"Yes, sar, I'm goin' to raise a furse here now, an' I won't be long
about it, nuther. They think I don't amount to nothin' in this yere
house, but I'll show 'em that I do. Pap bein' away, I had oughter be
the man of the family, an' that leetle Dave shan't crowd me outen the
place, nuther. When he comes back to-night his eyes'll stick out so't
a feller could hang his hat onto 'em. You hear me?"

This was the way Dan Evans talked to himself, as he sat on the bench
in front of the door, gazing after his mother and David, as they
walked down the road towa