en a cunning fox.

Would he be justified in shooting? At that short distance Jack
realized that he could riddle the object sadly; for the charge of shot,
having no chance to spread, would go with all the destructive power of
a bullet.

His finger was on the trigger, but he wisely refrained. Perhaps after
all this night intruder might not prove to be a bear, nor yet any other
wild beast. Roast duck may appeal just as strongly to the human
family. If any prowler had seen them bury the ducks on the preceding
evening, might he not have waited patiently until this hour, just
before the dawn, in order to allow the fowls to cook?

Was that a grunt of satisfaction he now caught? It certainly sounded
very much along that order. Evidently the transgressor and thief must
have finally succeeded in accomplishing his burrowing, judging from
that decided aroma that was scattering about the vicinity. Even then
he might be trying to gather up the spoils, loth to let a single duck
escape his bold foray.

Well, Jack believed he ought to have something to say about that. He
had gone to considerable trouble to collect half a dozen ducks; and,
besides, it took more or less time to build that same oven and prepare
the game for the receptacle. They were not in the feeding line,
either. If a poor hungry wayfarer chose to approach them the right
way, and appeal for help, he would find that generous hearts beat in
the bosoms of these good-natured lads. But a thief who came crawling
into camp when they were asleep, and tried to make a clean sweep of
their expected breakfast, did not appeal to Jack at all.

"Hello! there, my friend; if you start to run, I'm going to fill you
full of shot; so don't you dare try it!" Jack suddenly remarked, in a
clear voice.

Up bobbed other heads near by, as these words awoke some of the
sleepers.

"Keep still, boys, and don't get in my way," said Jack, calmly. "I've
got a thief covered, and expect to bring him down if he so much as
takes one jump. Easy now, Herb; keep your gun ready, and don't shoot
until I say so."

For all he talked so threateningly, of course Jack would have done no
such thing had the fellow bolted. Better lose a thousand ducks than
have cause to regret hasty action. But it seemed that his bold words
had the effect he wanted; for the shadowy figure continued to hug the
ground in the spot where the oven lay.

"Don't yuh shoot me, Mistah!" a quavering voice now broke out