an, the
Imperial or the far-famed Delmonico restaurant, could equal this
primitive repast, for him.

Finally, all was ready. Helping himself to a large plateful of the
delicious food, and pouring out a huge tin cup of the coffee, Roseleaf
sat down as if to take his ease while breakfasting. But, instead of
touching the viands he had been at such pains to prepare, the next thing
he did was to fall prone on the ground. And at the same instant a second
bullet whizzed past him and buried itself with a tearing of bark and
wood in the tree just behind him.

If Roseleaf had laid down with suddenness he rose with no less speed. As
he sprang to his feet he picked up his rifle. He made a dozen steps
forward, and then, bringing the weapon to his shoulder, cried to some
one in front of him:

"Halt, or I fire!"

A human form that had been creeping away on its hands and knees, now
stood upright. It was perhaps thirty yards from the speaker, and when it
faced him he saw that the countenance was black.

"Don't come any nearer and don't go any farther off," said the novelist,
gravely. "You are at a convenient distance. I can shoot you best where
you stand."

The negro looked considerably crestfallen. He seemed doubtful whether to
break and run or stay and try to face it out.

"I can't help an accident," he said, at last, when the other remained
covering him with the rifle.

"No," was the answer. "An accident is liable to happen to any one, they
say. But two accidents, of the same kind, on the same day--accidents
that might either of them have been fatal if you were not such an
awfully bad marksman--are too many. When _I_ get ready to fire, there
will be no accident."

The negro was plainly uneasy. He cast his eyes on the ground and
writhed.

"You have dropped your gun," said Roseleaf. "That was right. It would
have incommoded your flight, and its only cartridge was used. You would
have had no time to reload. I know that gun very well; I have heard it
many times in the last six weeks. I knew the sound of it to-day when you
fired the first time. A rifle has a voice, like a man; did you know
that? I knew it was your gun and that you were at the end of it. With
that information in my possession, of course you couldn't catch me
napping twice. I pretended to watch my cooking, but in reality I watched
nothing but you. There is no need that you should say anything,
Hannibal. You could not tell me much, if you tried."

The speaker