"
"Haw! haw!" laughed Bob. "I shall want _good_ backing before I
willingly raise a row in that quarter, I tell you."
"What do you mean by that?" demanded Lester.
"O, I was just joking, of course. But what's to be done about this
business? Don got the contract for Dave Evans, and I want to know if
we are to be kicked out of the way to make room for him."
Lester did not reply at once. He did not feel very highly flattered
by the low estimate Bob seemed to put upon him as a "backer" in case
of trouble with Don Gordon, and while he was trying to make up his
mind whether he ought to let it pass or get sulky over it, he was
unfolding and smoothing out the letter he held in his hand. When he
had made himself master of its contents, he said:--
"You come over and stay with me to-night, and we'll put our heads
together and see what we can make of this. I must go down to the
store now, and I'll meet you here in half an hour. That will give
you time enough to go home and speak to your folks."
Bob spent the night at Lester's house, and it was during the long
conversation they had before they went to sleep, that they made up
their minds that it was a mean piece of business to trap quails, and
that nobody but a miserable pot-hunter would do it.
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