he has shown much wisdom, considering
his usual lack of judgment."

Both father and son laughed at this, and then the senior Morrison looked
at his watch.

"It is about nine o'clock," he remarked. "Have you seen anything this
morning of the stranger from Scaly Brook? I think you said he was to be
on hand at that time."

"He is standing by the door now," replied Tony, a certain feeling of
strength creeping over him, which he could not account for.

"In that case, I will go with you to Mr. Furbush's," said Mr. Morrison.

The Morrisons, father and son, and Tony left the store at once, and,
accompanied by the red-bearded stranger, proceeded to Mr. Furbush's.

They found that gentleman at home. They were scarely seated when the
senior Morrison said, somewhat abruptly:

"I called, in company with my son, to have a plain talk with you. Of
course, as game-warden, you only did your duty in taking the captured
deer. The Loring boy was not to blame; my son was the responsible
party."

"You mean the guilty party," rejoined Mr. Furbush. "Any one who commits
a crime is considered guilty."

Mr. Morrison smiled.

"There may be various degrees of guilt," he said, quietly; "but I do not
see it in that light. To me, in order to place the guilt of an act upon
a person, that person must do a wrong willfully or maliciously. In this
case, my son did not know he was violating the law."

"Ignorance of the law is no excuse," answered Mr. Furbush. "I've been
deputy sheriff and game-warden for a good many years, and about every
law-breaker has an excuse."

Again Mr. Morrison smiled.

"All very true, no doubt," he replied; "and, in regard to the deer,
there was no real harm done."

"Well, no," admitted Mr. Furbush. "The fine was paid, and I set the deer
at liberty as soon as I received information from the county warden. But
seems to me this talk has all been unnecessary."

"Very likely," assented Mr. Morrison; "but now we come to the real
object of our visit. You have a son Isaac. This gentleman," pointing to
the red-bearded man, "would like to see him."

"I'll call him," said Mr. Furbush.

Isaac was summoned, and came into the room with a frightened look on his
round face.

"I was just going away," he said, glancing uneasily around the room.

"Going in to Duck Lake, I suppose?" queried the stranger.

Isaac grew very red in the face, but made no answer.

"Do you remember," continued the man, "that this boy here"-- pointi