Max made up his mind on the spot.

"Look here, Obed," was the way he talked, for Max always believed that
it was good policy to "hit the nail directly on the head;" especially
when the subject was of considerable importance, "what's to hinder you
going off with that pair of live blacks, and disposing of them, while
the four of us stay here and run your fur farm for you? It would only
take a few days, and we've got the time to spare. Of course you'd have
to trust us to the limit, to leave things in our charge; but we'd surely
be pleased to help you out. And depend on it, nobody would steal any of
the other inmates of the pens while we were on deck. We've got only one
gun along, but that is a repeating Marlin, always to be depended on to
do its work."

The woods boy was visibly affected by hearing Max say this. He reached
for the other's hand and squeezed it almost fiercely.

"Oh! it's kind of you to say that, Max!" he exclaimed, as though the
words sprang directly from his heart. "And d'ye know I'm tempted to take
you at your word. For I _must_ get those pups delivered as I promised.
Everything depends on that deal. The man saw them three months ago, and
we made a bargain. I was to deliver the pups to him by the time first
snow flew; and it's due any day now, you know."

A singular thing had happened, and Max, while deeply interested in what
Obed was saying, could not help but notice that for once the woods boy
had spoken without a sign of the rude dialect which up to then had
marked his manner of speech. This further aroused the curiosity of Max,
who to himself was saying: