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At Whispering Pine Lodge by Lawrence J. Leslie
page 61 of 160 (38%)
like," the singular woods boy went on to say, rising as he spoke,
"s'pose yuh meander out and take a look at my humble beginnin'. I surely
hope yuh won't run down my efforts, 'cause o' course things ain't got to
runnin' full swing yet. But the cubs are nigh big enough to be taken to
market."

"How many have you got, Obed?" asked Max, following the other out of the
cabin.

"One pair nearly grown, and another just two months old. I've been
mighty lucky in not losing a single pup so far," came the reply over
Obed's shoulder; and he might be pardoned for putting just a mite of
pride in his tones, for he had accomplished something worth while for a
new beginner at the business.

"But if you expect to keep in this line," said Bandy-legs quickly, as
though he voiced a suspicion that kept cropping up in his mind, "why do
you want to dispose of that first pair of pups?"

Obed laughed good-naturedly.

"I'll tell yuh, Bandy-legs," he said, confidentially. "In the first
place breeders like to change their stock, so as to bring new blood into
the pens. Then again, why, I happens to need the money that's comin' to
me for my share. A fellow has got to live up here in the mountains, and
grub costs a wheen o' hard cash, 'specially when yuh got a good
appetite, which seems to fit me all right. But if I get what I'm hopin'
for it'll be all right, and I reckons thar'll come some years before we
let more foxes get away from this same farm."

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