tent door, barely swerved aside for my fire, and gave me another
beautiful run down the old road, rising and falling light as
thistle-down, with the old trees arching over him and brushing
his antlers as he rocketed along.

The last branch had hardly swished behind him when, across the
pond, the underbrush parted cautiously and Old Wally appeared,
trailing a long gun. He had followed scarcely a dozen of the
buck's jumps when he looked back and saw me watching him from
beside a great maple.

"Just a-follerin one o' my tarnal sheep. Strayed off day 'fore
yesterday. Hain't seen 'im, hev ye?" he bawled across.

"Just went along; ten or twelve points on his horns. And say,
Wally--"

The old sinner, who was glancing about furtively to see if the
white sand showed any blood stains,--looked up quickly at the
changed tone.

"You let those sheep of yours alone till the first of October;
then I'll help you round 'em up. Just now they're worth forty
dollars apiece to the state. I'll see that the warden collects
it, too, if you shoot another."

"Sho! Mister, I ain't a-shootin' no deer. Hain't seen a deer
round here in ten year or more. I just took a crack at a
pa'tridge 'at kwitted at me, top o' a stump"--