"Well?" prompted the Master, "do you want those cartridges back?"

Wefers favored him with a scowl of utter dislike. Then, his eyes again
averted, the wet man mumbled:

"I come over here today, to do my dooty.--Dogs that get bit by mad dogs
had ought to be shot.--I come over here to do my dooty. Likewise, I
done it.--I shot that dog of yours that got bit, yest'day."

"Huh?" ejaculated the Master.

"This dog here looks some like him," went on Wefers, sulkily. "But it
ain't him. And I'll so report to the author'ties.--I done what I come
to do. The case is closed. And-and-if you folks ever want to sell your
dog, why,--well, I'll just go mortgage something and--and buy him off'n
you!"

CHAPTER III. No Trespassing!

There were four of them; two gaudily-clad damsels and two men. The men,
in their own way, were attired as gloriously as the maidens they were
escorting. The quartet added generously to the glowing beauty of the
summer day.

Down the lake they came, in a canoe modestly scarlet except for a
single broad purple stripe under the gunwale. The canoe's tones blended
sweetly with the pink parasol and blue picture hat of one of the women.

Stolid and unshaven fishermen, in drab scows, along the canoe's route,
looked up from their lines, in bovine wonder at the vision of
loveliness which swept resonantly past them. For the quartet were
warbling. They were also doing queer musical stunts which are fondly
miscalled "close harmony."

Thus do they and their kind pay homage to a divine day on a fire-blue
lake, amid the hush of the eternal hills. Lesser souls may find
themselves speaking in few and low-pitched words, under the holy spell
of such surroundings. But to loftier types of holiday-seekers, the
benignant silences of the wilderness are put there by an all-wise
Providence for the purpose of being fractured by any racket denoting
care-free merriment;--the louder the merrier. There is nothing so
racket-breeding as a perfect day amid perfect scenery.

The four revelers had paddled down into the lake, on a day's
picnicking. They had come from far up the Ramapo river; beyond Suffern.
And the long downstream jaunt had made them hungry. Wherefore, as they
reached mid-lakes they began to inspect the wooded shores for an
attractive luncheon-site. And they found what they sought.

A half-mile to southward, a gently rolling point of land pushed out
into the lake. It was smooth-shaven and emerald-bright. It form