"Kin ye shoot?" asked the old sportsman at last.
"A little," modestly.
"Waal, what--tame turkeys?" contemptuously.
"No: I have shot wild ones, as well as prairie-chickens, quail, and--
deer."
"What! Be thet some o' your college sass, naow? I git so full o' thet
every season, it makes me sick!"
"I'm not a college student, and I generally tell the truth. I've lived
West for some years, and have had some good hunting at odd times; but,
to be honest, I don't know anything about your bird-shooting here, and
I'm hankerin' after an experience!"
The homely native word pleased the old man, and he smiled leniently.
"Waal," he said, removing the pipe to knock out the ashes and put it in
his pocket (much to the other's satisfaction), "waal, I guess we kin fix
it. Mort, here, an' me, we was goin' out airly in the mornin'. Ef you
kin turn out in time, ye mought go with us. I've got a gun for you, but
you'll hev to pay fer the powder an' shot, an' give me my share o' the
birds."
"We won't quarrel about terms," laughed the other. "I'll be on hand
without fail, and am much obliged."
"Oh, ye're welcome; good-day. Remember, four sharp, naow!" as they
turned to go.
"You see," said the young man to the boy, as soon as they were beyond
ear-shot, "he didn't put me through the manual of arms, after all.
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