Finally a desperate thought came to Redcoat. He would gnaw off his paw and leave that portion which the trap held. He had steeled his nerves and opened his jaws to give the first vicious crunch upon his own member when he heard the rattle of a stone in the brook, and looking up fearfully he saw Bud Holcome wading up the stream. It was too late to sever his paw. He was lost for Bud Holcome was carrying the dreadful thunder stick in the crook of his arm. Then Redcoat remembered the drowned muskrat. The man had taken it from the trap and thrown it upon the bank. Had the muskrat escaped? Redcoat had not waited to see. Did this suggest a way of escape for him? I do not know.
But when Bud Holcome parted the bushes and peered in where he had set his best trap he saw the beautiful Redcoat lying limp upon the water, just as the muskrat had lain. Bud's astonishment was beyond words, but he took the precaution to advance with his rifle cocked.
"By jing," he said at last. "If he hasn't
