expressive face of Obed, secretly believed the newcomer was purposely
drawing Steve on, meaning to surprise him when finally he chose to
explain it all. So Max did not attempt to interfere, but let things go
on as they were doing, satisfied that the answer to the conundrum would
soon come.

"Steal your outfit from you?" echoed Steve, when he could catch his
breath; "do you mean that you're carrying on some sort of business,
then, up here in the woods?"

"Reckon that's about right, Steve," Obed replied, and his familiar use
of the other's name could be easily explained by that spirit of "free
masonry" that exists among all boys. "I've got a business, which looks
like it was goin' to pan out right decent, and make me some money in the
bargain. That's why they're meanin' to rob me, I guess; anyhow, it
hinges on that same thing. And I thought you might be that crowd first,
but I soon saw I was mistaken, and that you'd be my friend."

"But what sort of business is it you're in, Obed?" asked Steve, boldly.

"Me? Oh! I'm only a farmer," confessed the other, chuckling as he spoke.

"A farmer!" echoed Steve, looking blank; "but how could anybody steal
your ground away, or carry off your crops, I'd like to know?"

"Why, yuh don't jest understand, Steve. I ain't no regular hayseed. I'm
a fur farmer, you see; and you could carry my crop of fox pelts away
easy enough on your own back!"