f cold fire from
the muzzle, only the feathery whirring whisper broke the silence of
suspense. Then far away over sunny tree tops a big grouse sailed up,
rocketing into the sky on slanted wings, breasting the height of green;
dipped, glided downward with bowed wings stiffened, and was engulfed in
the misty barriers of purpling woods.

"Vale!" said Siward aloud, "I salute you!"

He came strolling back across the crisp leaves, the dappled sunshine
playing over his face like the flicker of a smile.

"Miles," he said, "my nerve is gone. Such things happen. I'm all in.
Come over here, my friend, and look at the sun with me."

The discomfited keeper obeyed.

"Where ought that refulgent luminary to scintilate when I face Osprey
Ledge?"

"Sir?"

"The sun. How do I hold it?"

"On the p'int of your right shoulder, sir.--You ain't quittin', Mr.
Siward, sir!" anxiously; "that Shotover Cup is easy yours, sir!"
eagerly; "Wot's a miss on a old drummer, Mr. Siward? Wot's twice
over-shootin' cock, sir, when a blind dropper can see you are the
cleanest, fastest, hard-shootin' shot in the null county!"

But Siward shook his head with an absent glance at the dog, and motioned
the astonished keeper forward.

"Line the easiest trail for us," he said; "I think we are already a
trifle tired. Twigs will do in short cover; use a hatchet in the big
timber. ... And go slow till we join you."

And when the unwilling and perplexed keeper had started, Siward,
unlocking his gun, drew out the smooth yellow cartridges and pocketed
them.

Sylvia looked up as the sharp metallic click of the locked breech rang
out in the silence.

"Why do you do this, Mr. Siward?"

"I don't know; really I am honest; I don't know."

"It could not be because I--"

"No, of course not," he said, too seriously to reassure her.

"Mr. Siward," in quick displeasure.

"Yes?"

"What you do for your amusements cannot concern me."

"Right as usual," he said so gaily that a reluctant smile trembled on
her lips.

"Then why have you done this? It is unreasonable--if you don't feel as I
do about killing things that are having a good time in the world."

He stood silent, absently looking at the fowling-piece cradled in his
left arm. "Shall we sit here a moment and talk it over?" he suggested
listlessly.

Her blue gaze swept him; his vague smile was indifferently bland.

"If you are determined not to shoot, we might as well start for Osprey
Ledge," she sugg