Dan felt so mean and sneaking that he did not want to see anybody, if he could help it; and when he accidentally encountered Bob Owens and Lester Brigham in the woods, he darted into the bushes and concealed himself.  He watched them while they were watching Don and Bert, and when he saw them hitch their horses and creep along the fence in pursuit of the wagon, he suddenly recalled some scraps of a conversation he had overheard a few days before.  He knew that Lester was working against David, and believing from his stealthy movements and Bob’s that there was mischief afoot, he followed them with the determination of putting in a word, and perhaps a blow, if he found that David’s interests were in jeopardy.  He saw every move the two boys made.  He was lying in the bushes not more than fifty yards from them, while they were watching Don and Bert put the captured quails into the cabin, and when they went back to the place where they had left their horses, they passed so close to him that he caught some of their conversation.  When they were out of sight and hearing Dan arose and sat down on the nearest log to make up his mind what he was going to do about it.

“I’ll bet a hoss you don’t steal them quail nor set fire to the cabin, nuther,” said he, to himself.  “Thar’s a heap of birds in thar—­seems to me that they had oughter ketched ’most as many as they want by this time—­an’ they shan’t be pestered; kase if they be, what’ll become of my shar’ of them hundred an’ fifty dollars?  It’ll be up a holler stump, whar I thought it had gone long ago!”

Dan knew that if Lester and his friend had any designs upon the cabin and the quails that were in it, they would not attempt to carry them out before night; but the fear that something might happen if he went home again troubled him greatly, and he resolved that he would not lose sight of the cabin for a few hours at least.  He did not know what he would do to Lester and Bob if he caught them in the act of trying to steal the quails; that was a point on which he could not make up his mind until something happened to suggest an idea to him.  While he was sitting in his place of concealment, thinking busily, he heard a rustling in the bushes and looked up to see one of Don’s hounds approaching.

In the days gone by, before Dan became such a rascal as he was now, he had often accompanied Don and Bert on their ’coon and ’possum hunting expeditions, and the old dogs in the pack were almost as well acquainted with him as they were with their master.  Bose recognised him at once, and appeared to be glad to see him.

“I want you to stay here with me till it comes dark, ole feller,” said Dan, patting the animal’s head. (He never kicked the hounds, as he did the pointer.  He knew better.) “If them fellers comes we’ll make things lively fur ’em.  You hear me?”