Midday
The bait was as he had left it . `` Maybe there 'll be more to t ' eastward , '' he thought , `` though there were signs on this side of t ' river . '' And , resetting the trap , he plodded along farther on his round . Midday came . He had passed no less than fifteen of his best traps , and not only had no fox been found , but not one trap was sprung or one bait taken . Malcolm stood meditatively scratching his head by trap twenty . `` Something 's wrong , '' he said to himself , -- `` but what ?