s laughed in their sleeves,
knowing full well that they had "skimmed the cream off the pan." True, a
few gems were found, but nothing to compare with their rake-off. And as
the supply of mussels soon became exhausted the flurry had long since
died a natural death.

But the boys had a nice little nest-egg in the bank as the result of
their thrift, and knowledge of things. This had been added to in various
ways, such as combing the woods far and near in search of wild ginseng,
and golden seal, the roots of which, when properly dried, brought them
many good dollars, after being shipped to a responsible house that dealt
in furs, and such things that the woods produce.

On the preceding fall the boys had enjoyed their Thanksgiving holidays
up in the North Woods in company with an old friend who spent all his
time there, trapping wild animals in season for their pelts, and getting
close to Nature's heart; for Trapper Jim, although well-to-do after a
fashion, despised the artificial life of the town.

Here they had experienced a succession of adventures that would forever
keep the memory of that trip fresh in their minds. Toby Jucklin had
brought home a 'coon he had captured; while Bandy-legs was the proud
owner of a fast growing black bear cub, which was making life miserable
for the cook at his house, because of its mischievous ways, and enormous
appetite.

Toby had apparently gone head-over-heels into the "pet" business. That
lively and prankish 'coon seemed to have started him along the line of
owning pets, and his comrades many times declared that he would soon
have a regular menagerie in the back yard of his place; for already
there were half a dozen home-made cages there, and Toby spent much of
his spare time feeding his pets.

Besides that same 'coon, which was often at large, yet never seemed
desirous of heading back to his old haunts where dinners were hard to
secure, Toby had some weird-looking lop-eared rabbits; a bunch of quail
from which he hoped to raise a family later on; a red fox that had a
limp on account of the broken leg set by Toby after he had found the
little animal apparently dying from hunger in the bitter wintry storm;
and last but not least a small edition of a wildcat that never would
make up with the hand that fed it, but continued to snarl and spit and
look ferocious week after week, until even patient Toby was beginning to
despair of ever calling it a "pet."

Some of the others had even b