"No."
"Trap sprung?"
"No."
"Nothing in it, eh?"
"No."
"I thought so."
Bertie laughed as he considered how _very_ empty the trap was.
"What are you laughing at?"
"I was thinking," said Bertie.
"Meet anybody up there?"
"One fellow."
"Who?"
"Jack Midnight."
"What was he doing?"
"Looking round."
"Give you any of his impudence?"
"No. He was very civil and obliging. He offered to fix the spring of my
trap."
"You didn't let him?"
"I could not refuse without hurting his feelings, and I did not want to
do that."
"I should, plump. My feelings are not seared over yet. I have not
forgotten the calico."
"And he has not."
"Do you believe it?"
"I do, Charley. I think he feels awful cheap about it."
"I hope he does."
"I know he does."
"He didn't say so?"
"No; but he acted so."
"If he feels cheap I hope he will stay so and keep his distance."
Bertie hoped so too. He was very much obliged to Jack for helping him
with the trap, but he did not care to be on familiar terms with him. He
was not the right sort of boy for a companion. On the whole he was sorry
to have met him at the spring.
"I hope I shall not fall in with him to-morrow morning," he said, half
to himself, half to Charley.
"You won't if you stay at home."
"I shall not do that."
"You intend to follow up the trapping business then?"
"I do."
"If you meet Jack Midnight every morning?"
"Certainly."
"How long?"
"Till I catch something.
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