cabin in the forest. The others were just about ready to start out to
learn what the various traps contained.

"Don't forget about that bear, Uncle Jim!" shouted Steve.

"I sure won't," answered the old man, waving his hand.

"If he's been back over that trail you'll lug out Old Tom and give him a
chance to earn his keep, won't you!" pursued Steve.

"That's right, I will."

Satisfied with the answer, Steve followed after Max.

Now, although Steve had shot quail and ducks, rabbits and squirrels, he
was not a big-game hunter. As yet he had to secure his first deer. And as
the sporting instinct was coming on very markedly in the boy, he was
anxious to be able to say he had shot a "lordly" buck.

It was always that, with Steve, whenever he boasted of the great things
he intended doing on a projected hunt. No ordinary doe seemed ever to
enter into his calculations at all.

"And a five-pronged buck, too," he declared. "I wouldn't waste my
precious time with anything less."

Knowing that Max had had more or less experience in the line of hunting,
Steve was secretly pleased to take lessons. There might be times when
Steve was inclined to boast that he knew it all; but when out with Max he
felt that this style of bluff would not go.