y, sensitive, not sure of himself or his
place in the order of things. Had Larsen gained his confidence, it would
all have been different. And as for Larsen, he knew that perfectly well.

One brisk sunny afternoon Larsen entered the yard, came straight to him,
and turned him loose. So great was his joy at freedom that he did not
see the shrewd light in the man's eyes. In the exuberance of his spirit
he ran round and round the yard barking into the faces of his friends.
Larsen let him out of the yard, mounted his horse, and commanded him to
heel. He obeyed with wagging tail.

A mile or two down the road Larsen turned into the fields. Across his
saddle was something the young pointer had had no experience with--a
gun. That part of his education Thompson had neglected, or at least
postponed, for he had not expected that Comet would be sent away so
soon. That was where Thompson had made a mistake.

At the command "Hie on!" the young pointer ran eagerly around the horse,
looking up into the man's face to be sure he had heard aright. Something
he saw there made him momentarily droop his ears and tail. Again there
came over him the feeling of strangeness, of homesickness, mingled this
time with dismay. Larsen's eyes were slits of blue glass. His mouth was
set in a thin line.

Had Comet seen a different expression, had he received a single word of
encouragement, there would have been no calamity that day. If he had
trusted the man, he would have withstood the shock his nerves were about
to receive. But he did not trust this pale man with the strange eyes and
the hard-set mouth.

At a second command, though, he galloped swiftly, boldly into the field.
Once he turned for direction and Larsen waved him on. Round and round
the extensive field he circled, forgetting any feeling of strangeness,
every fibre of his being intent on the hunt. Larsen, from his horse,
watched with appraising eyes.

Suddenly to the young dog's nose came the smell, strong, pungent,
compelling, of game birds. He stiffened into an earnest beautiful point.
Heretofore, in the little training he had gone through, Thompson had
come up behind him, flushed the birds and made him drop. And now Larsen,
having quickly dismounted and tied his horse, hurried toward him as
Thompson had done--except that in Larsen's hand was the gun.

The old-fashioned black powder of a generation ago makes a loud
explosion. It sounds like a cannon compared with the modern smokele