"Well, I hadn't ought to complain about that trap," came the answer.
"Year before last it caught me a silver fox, as the black fox is called.
And perhaps you know that a prime black fox pelt is worth as high as
several thousand dollars."

"Hear that, will you!" exclaimed Steve.

"H-h-how much d-d-did you g-g-get for it?" asked Toby.

"Well," Jim went on to say, "it wasn't a Number One, but they allowed I
ought to get eight-fifty for it; which check was enclosed in the letter
I'll show you some day. I keep it to prove the truth of my story."

"A bully good day's work, eh?" remarked Steve.

"Best that ever came my way," admitted the other.

"Gee, wonder now if we'd be lucky enough to set eyes on a silver fox
worth a cool thousand or more?" ventured Bandy-legs.

"It is barely possible you may, boys," remarked the trapper; "because I
saw a beauty two or three times during the summer. And I'm kind of hoping
there may be some sort of magic about this same trap to coax him to put
his foot in it."

"A single fox skin fetching thousands of dollars!" remarked Steve, as if
hardly able to grasp it as the truth. "Whew, that beats finding pearls in
the shells of mussels all hollow!"