went off at a trot.

"You think so?"

"Yes. I never fired a gun, but the man showed me how to load and take
aim, and it looks very easy."

"Oh yes, it looks very easy," said Kenneth dryly. "You just hold the
gun to your shoulder and point at a bird. Then you pull the trigger,
and down comes Dicky."

"Yes. I went to see men shoot pigeons after I had bought my gun. My
father said I had better."

"Oh, he said you had better, did he?"

Max nodded.

"And he thought that would do as well as shooting pigeons, for they come
expensive."

Kenneth laughed.

"Ah, well, we can give you something to shoot at here, without buying
pigeons; but you'll have to mind: my father wouldn't like it if you were
to shoot either me or Scood."

"Oh, I wouldn't do that!" cried Max. "It isn't likely."

"Glad of it," said Kenneth dryly. "Well, then, don't make a mistake and
shoot one of the dogs. I'm sure they would not like it. Where's your
gun?"

"In the case in my bedroom. Shall I fetch it?"

"Yes. Got any cartridges?"

"Oh yes, everything complete; the man saw to that."

"Look sharp, then," said Kenneth; and he had a hearty laugh as he saw
his new companion go upstairs.

In spite of the admonition to look sharp, Max was some few minutes
before he descended. For the first thing he saw on reaching his bedroom
were his two pairs of trousers, neatly folded, and lying upon a chair.

The gun was forgotten for the minute, and it was not long before the
kilt was exchanged for the southern costume in the form of tweeds, Max
sighing with satisfaction as he once more felt quite warmly clad.

Kenneth laughed as Max reappeared with his gun and cartridge belt in his
hand.

"Hallo!" he said; "soon tired of looking Scotch."

"I--I'm not used to it," said Max apologetically. "And never will be if
you go on like that."

"But I found my own things in my room, and it did not seem right to keep
on wearing yours."

"Wonder where they were?" said Kenneth dryly.

"I suppose the butler found them," said Max innocently.

Kenneth whistled, and looked rather peculiar, but his aspect was not
noticed by his companion, who was experimenting on the best way to carry
his gun.

"Loaded?"

"No, not yet."

"Then don't you load till I tell you. I'll give you plenty of time.
Come along."

"Going for a sail, Maister Ken?" cried a voice; and Long Shon came
waddling up, looking very red-faced and fierce.

"Yes, Shon, and we don't w