to the full that most glorious time of the whole year in the woods, the
autumn season, when the leaves are colored by the early frosts and the
first ice forms on the shores of the little trout streams.

As the afternoon passed they recovered from the effects of the long
railroad journey overnight and the joggling buckboard experience. A
thousand questions had been fired at Jim, who was a good-humored old
fellow with a great love for boys in his heart.

"Take things kind of easy to-day, boys," he kept on saying, when they
wanted to know why he didn't get busy and show them all the wonderful
things he had in store for his lively young visitors. "I want you to rest
up and be in good trim for to-morrow. Plenty of time to begin work then.
Knock around and see what it looks like where Old Jim has had his hunting
lodge this seven years back."

So they did busy themselves prying into things. And between that hour and
dark there were very few spots around the immediate neighborhood that
they had not examined.

Jim's stock of well-kept Victor steel traps were commented on, and
stories listened to in connection with this one or that. No wonder the
hunting instinct in the lads was pretty well aroused by the time they had
heard some of these stirring accounts.

"If the whole bunch of traps could only talk, now," declared Owen, as he
handled a big one meant for bear, "wouldn't they make the shivers run up
and down our backbones, though?"

Trapper Jim only smiled.