It was the next morning. Breakfast had been dispatched, and there was
still a distinct odor of bacon and coffee in the air.

All of them were getting ready for the duties laid out for the day; and
this remark of Owen's had been intended for Max and Steve.

Eager to indulge in a hunt, with the dim prospect of bringing home a fine
deer, Steve had begged Trapper Jim to let him go. This was on the evening
before, while they sat by the blazing fire in the cabin.

Now Old Jim had, of course, sized up impulsive Steve pretty well before
now. He liked the boy very much, for he knew Steve was warm-hearted and a
true comrade. But he hardly fancied having so impatient a lad go off by
himself.

Accordingly, he had told Steve that if he could get Max to keep him
company on a little hunt, he would post them with regard to where they
were most likely to run across game.

And Max had only too gladly agreed.

He had a new magazine 30-30 repeating rifle. It was a small bore, but by
using the soft-nosed bullets that mushroom out upon striking even the
flesh of an animal, it would prove just as powerful as a heavier
gun.

And Max was secretly just wild to try it on a deer, though he did not
show his feelings the same way Steve would have done.