ought to do everything we can to break up his game," Bandy-legs
affirmed, in a firm way that was rather new to him.

"As how?" further questioned Steve; while the others listened as if
interested.

"Well, s'pose Max here laid out a plan that would give every feller two
hours on the watch," pursued Bandy-legs, proudly, as though he had
conjured up this beautiful little scheme all by himself, while sitting
there staring into the fire. "If I had that shotgun in my hands, I'd
just like to see anybody, or anything, sneak in on us, and steal as much
as an egg."

"I guess you would be a pretty dangerous customer, with a loaded gun in
your hands, the way you feel right now," remarked Max, seriously. "Come,
you mustn't think so much about it, Bandy-legs. Leave it to us, and
we'll try and fix it all right."

"But I've got an idea of a trap in my mind I'd like to try out,"
protested the other, eagerly.

"That's all right," laughed Max, "so long as you don't fall into it
yourself, and get us all up in the middle of the night. You must promise
not to creep out at any time, to see if there's anything in it."

"Oh, you'll know it, all right, if it does ketch game," grinned
Bandy-legs. "You see, I was readin' just last week about a crocodile
hunter away off in Africa; and he used to set his traps about like the
way I'm goin' to do mine now."