played and slept and ate their fill, daily increasing in size and value.
They were also timid, though in due time Obed managed to get them to
show themselves; for hunger is a powerful inducement, and the smell of
favorite food a lure difficult to resist.

"Of course," explained the young fur farmer, while they were watching
the inmates of the second enclosure, "I don't have black cats up here
yet to carry out them directions exactly; but I'm aiming to do that
also pretty soon. Yep, and after this set o' pups has been sold, if they
fetch all I count on, I'm goin' to have a talk with the lawyer that
looks after Mr. Coombs' estate. He promised to come up and see what
could be done about extendin' the farm. And then I guess it's goin' to
be time to hire a helper, seein' I can't do everything by myself."

"That was just what I meant to speak to you about, Obed!" exclaimed Max.
"You oughtn't to try to stay here another winter all by yourself.
Besides, some unscrupulous men might raid your enclosures while you were
off hunting, or fishing, and break up your business. It isn't safe,
Obed; and I know from what you said before about suspecting strangers
were around here right now, that you're getting anxious yourself."

The boy drew a long breath, and nodded his head. Into his eyes crept a
look quite the opposite of that merry gleam usually nestling there. Yes,
plainly Obed _was_ worried over something; and Max believed he had put
his finger directly on the sore spot when he spoke of a possible raid on
the fur product of the singular farm.

"Can you find just such a reliable man as you want, Obed?" asked Steve.

"That part ain't so hard," he was told. "Fact is I've got him more'n