I was a boy, I never had any luck in catching birds in
bright new traps. When the birds are caught, he can put them into one
of those unoccupied negro cabins and lock them up until he is ready
to send them off."

"That's the very idea!" cried Don, gleefully. "We knew that if there
was any way out of the difficulty, you would be sure to see it."

The General bowed in acknowledgment of the compliment, and the
brothers turned their horses about and rode away. When they reached
the barn Don was willing to confess that he was very tired. Riding on
horseback is hard work for one who is stiff in every joint and lame
all over; but Don could not think of going into the house and taking
a rest. He had been a close prisoner there for a whole week, and now
that he had taken a breath of fresh air and stirred his sluggish
blood with a little exhilarating exercise, he could not bear to go
back to his sofa again. He proposed that they should leave their
ponies at the barn and go up to David's in the canoe. They would take
their guns with them, he said, and after they had paid David his
money, they would row a short distance up the bayou, and perhaps they
might be fortunate enough to knock over a duck or two for the next
day's dinner.

Bert, of course, agreed to the proposition, and went into the shop
after the oars belonging to the canoe, while Don went into the house
again after the guns. When he came out again he had a breech-loader
on each shoulder and David's ten dollars in his pocket. Paying that
bill twice did make a big hole in his Christmas money, for it took
just half of it.

The brothers walked along the garden path that ran toward the lake,
and when Don, who was leading the way, stepped upon the jetty he
missed something at once. The canoe was gone. They had not been near
the jetty for a week, and the last time they were there the boat was
all right. It could not have got away without help, for it was firmly
tied to a ring in the jetty by the chain, which served as a painter,
and even if that had become loosened the canoe would have remained
near its moorings, for there was no current in the lake to carry it
from the shore. Beyond a doubt, it had been stolen. Don would not
have felt the loss more keenly if the thief had taken his fine
sail-boat. The canoe was almost as old as he was, and in it he and
Bert had taken their first ride on the lake and captured their first
wounded duck.

"It's gone," said Don, after he and