This programme was duly carried out—­that is, they spent the rest of the day in setting their traps, but they did not devote any more time to watching David’s movements.  Two incidents happened within a few hours that suggested new ideas to them, and made them sure that at last they had the game in their own hands.  They had built a good many traps, and having no mule and wagon at their command, as Don Gordon had, it took them all the rest of the day to set them, so that it was dark by the time they reached home.  They found the family at supper and listening with great interest and attention to something Mr. Owens was saying.

Mr. Owens was like Godfrey Evans in two respects.  His ideas ran just as far ahead of his income as Godfrey’s did, and he hated those who were better off in the world than himself.  Especially did he dislike General Gordon.  The latter was looked up to by all the best people as the leading man in the community, and that was something Mr. Owens could not endure.  He wanted that honor himself; and because he could not have it, he made it a point to oppose and injure the General in every possible way.

“What do you think Gordon is trying to do now?” Mr. Owens asked, just as the boys came in and took their seats at the table.  “Gardner’s mail contract has run out, and as he doesn’t intend to put in another bid, that meddlesome Silas Jones asked the General who would be a good man to take his place; and Gordon hadn’t any more sense than to recommend Dave Evans.”

“Well, of all the things I ever heard of!” exclaimed Bob.

“That’s what I thought,” continued Mr. Owens.  “I heard them talking about it at the post-office.  Gordon was as busy as a candidate on election day.  He was going around speaking to all the men about it, and asking them if they would lend their influence to secure the contract for David, and, although I put myself in his way two or three times, he never said a word to me.  I suppose he thought my influence didn’t amount to anything one way or the other, but perhaps he’ll see his mistake some day.”

“What’s the pay, father?” asked Bob.

“Thirty dollars a month was Gardner’s bid, and he rode the route only twice each week.  But he had to go rain or shine.  How would you like it, Bob?”

“The best in the world!” exclaimed the boy, eagerly.  “Three hundred and sixty dollars a year!  Couldn’t I sport just as fine a hunting and fishing rig as anybody?  Can’t you get it for me, father?”

“I was thinking about it on the way home, and I made up my mind that I could try.  Gordon thinks he holds the whole state of Mississippi under his thumb, but he hasn’t got me there.”

“Nor my father, either,” said Lester.  “He’ll help you, Mr. Owens.”

“I was counting on him.  When I send in the application, I’ll have to send a bond for a few hundred dollars with it.”

“Father will go on it, if I ask him, and I will, for I’ll do anything to help Bob and beat that beggar, Dave Evans.”