“That trap must have been as full as it could hold,” said Lester, thoughtfully.  “They have made five or six trips between the wagon and that clump of bushes since we have been here.  We know where one of the traps is set now, and that will guide us in finding the rest.  When we do find them, we’ll carry out our plan of robbing them every day.  They must have trapped some birds before, and if we watch them when they go home we can find out where they keep them.  What do you say to that?”

Bob replied that he was willing, and so the two dismounted, and having hitched their horses, set themselves to watch the wagon.  They followed it at a respectful distance, as it made the rounds of the traps (they did not know that they also were followed by somebody, who kept a sharp eye on all their movements), and Bob grew angry every time he saw more quails added to those already in the coop.

“Those fellows are always lucky,” he growled.  “I’ll warrant that if we visit those traps we set yesterday, we’ll not find a single bird in them.  Don and Bert are hauling them in by dozens.”

“So much the better for us,” returned his companion.  “Every quail they catch makes it just so much easier for us to earn seventy-five dollars apiece.”

Bob, feeling somewhat mollified by this view of the case, turned his attention to Don and his brother, who, having visited all their traps by this time, climbed into the wagon and drove toward home.

CHAPTER XVI.

DON’S HOUNDS TREE SOMETHING.

Lester and his companion followed the wagon at a safe distance and saw it driven to the negro quarters, which were located about half a mile below the General’s house.  It stopped in front of one of the cabins, and Don and Bert began the work of transferring the quails from the coop to the building in which they were to remain until they were sent up the river.  Bob and Lester counted the number of trips they made between the wagon and the door of the cabin, and made a rough estimate of the number of birds they had caught that morning.

“They’ve got at least a hundred,” said Lester, when the wagon was driven toward the house, “and that is just one-sixth of the number they want.  At that rate that beggar Dave will be rich in a week more.”

“Not if we can help it!” exclaimed Bob, angrily.  “That cabin will burn as well as the shooting-box did!”

“But we don’t want to do too much of that sort of work,” answered Lester.  “We may get the settlement aroused, and that wouldn’t suit us.  I’d rather steal the birds, wouldn’t you?”

Bob replied that he would, but hinted that if they attempted it they might have a bigger job on their hands than they had bargained for.  In the first place, there were Don’s hounds.

“But we braved them once—­that was on the night we borrowed Don’s boat to go up and burn his shooting-box—­and we are not afraid to do it again,” said Lester.  “We didn’t alarm them then.”