"We'll have a regular corner in 'em. Come, let's get off."

The two young Southern hunters felt as if they had already captured a
small fortune, and Stam--short for Stamford--made a rush for the house.

"Where's my gun? It's never in its place. Mother," raising his voice, "I
can't find my gun anywhere. It's so provoking! Have you taken it?"

"And my game-bag is gone," echoed Jed, in an irritable voice. "We're in
such a hurry, too."

"It's money out of pocket standing here looking for these plaguey
things."

"Well, boys," replied Mrs. Fellows, appearing on the scene, "you have no
one to blame but yourself. Nobody has touched your things, and they are
just where you left them."

"Where is that?"

"You ought not to be told. You should be made to look for them."

"Oh, please tell us, mother, for we're in such a hurry."

"'Gator skins are selling high now," added Stam, opening his eyes, "and
we know where we can get some big ones."

"That's no reason why you shouldn't be made to find your things. You
must be cured of your careless habits in some way. This is a good time
to begin."