"I hope I will," replied Lub, earnestly, at the same time remembering about the bunks, and what one of the others had said with regard to house-cleaning in the morning; "but say, it is a fine night, ain't it, Ethan. Listen to the frogs singing their chorus in some little bay of the lake." "Yes," remarked Ethan, quickly, "I was listening to their serenade. Some busters in that lot, too, because you can hear 'em calling more-rum, more-rum' in the deepest bass. That always stands for the big bullfrogs. I ought to know, because I'm an experienced frog-raiser. Cleared sixty-seven dollars from my little pond this very summer; but I've never seen frogs'-legs quoted _quite_ so high as that Mr. Brandon the restaurant man down in New York pays me. I guess he favors me a mite just because he happens to know some friends of Phil's." Lub knew all about it, but he never let even a chuckle escape from his lips. "Well, in that letter you had from him which you showed me," he observed, "he said he'd never had such fine frogs'-legs before, and wanted to make sure to keep getting all you had to sell. A dollar a pound is a cracking high sum, sure it is, but then good things always bring fancy prices." That frog pond of Ethan's went with his many other ways for making spending money. It required almost no time at all to run it. When he found an opportunity he caught frogs wherever he could find them, and put them into his preserve. Then, on feeling that he had the right kind of goods for a gilt-edge market he would make a shipment of a box of "saddles" neatly arranged, so that they were attractive to the eye of the proprietor of the fashionable restaurant in far-off New York. Phil had recommended Ethan to try that place, and had even given him permission to use his name as a recommendation. Ethan never knew that the same mail had carried a letter from Phil to Mr. Brandon, who was an old friend of his, making arrangements to stand for the difference between the market price of frogs'-legs and the fancy sum he was to send Ethan every time he shipped him a box. While Lub was standing there, and apparently enjoying the sight of the moonlight dancing on the water of the lake near by, he was at the same time casting occasional apprehensive glances around him. The woods looked mysterious enough and gloomy too, for the moon had not risen far in the heavens, and the shadows were long and abundant. Several times he fancied he saw something moving there on the border of the dense growth. Finally he appealed to Ethan, because he had considerable respect for the opinions of his chum, who had studied woods lore so long. "You don't think now, that any of that crowd we scared away from the cabin would come sneaking back to spy on us, or try to steal any of our things?" he asked, trying to appear as though such an idea was furthest from his own thoughts.