's guns? Hire it of him, eh, and
steal the powder and shot!" he cried savagely.

"Yes--if you saw fit, sir. Gadgem, I am sure, would be most willing, and
you can always get plenty of ammunition. Anyway, you might pass a few
months with your kinsfolk on the Eastern Shore, whether you hunted or
not; it did you so much good before. The winter here is always wearing,
sloppy and wet. I've heard you say so repeatedly." He had not taken his
eyes from his face; he knew this was St. George's final stage, and he
knew too that he would never again enter the home he loved; but this
last he could not tell him outright. He would rather have cut his right
hand off than tell him at all. Being even the humblest instrument in the
exiling of a man like St. George Wilmot Temple was in itself a torture.

"And when do you want me to quit?" he said calmly. "I suppose I can
evacuate like an officer and a gentleman and carry my side-arms with
me--my father's cane, for instance, that I can neither sell nor pawn,
and a case of razors which are past sharpening?" and his smile broadened
as the humor of the thing stole over him.

"Well, sir, it ought to be done," continued Pawson in his most serious
tone, ignoring the sacrifice--(there was nothing funny in the situation
to the attorney)--"well--I should say--right away. To-morrow, perhaps.
This news of Gorsuch has come very sudden, you know. If I can show him
that the new tenant has moved in already he might wait until his first
month's rent was paid. You see that--"

"Oh, yes, Pawson, I see--see it all clear as day," interrupted St.
George--"have been seeing it for some months past, although neither
you nor Gadgem seem to have been aware of that fact." This came with so
grave a tone that Pawson raised his eyes inquiringly. "And who is this
man," Temple went on, "who wants to step into my shoes? Be sure you
tell him they are half-soled," and he held up one boot. He might want
to dance or hunt in them--and his toes would be out the first thing he
knew."

"He is Mr. Gorsuch's attorney, sir, a Mr. Fogbin," Pawson answered,
omitting any reference to the boots and still concerned over the gravity
of the situation. "He did some work once for Colonel Rutter, and that's
how Gorsuch got hold of him. That's why I suspect the colonel. This
would make the interest sure, you see--rather a sly game, is it not,
sir? One I did not expect."

St. George pondered for a moment, and his eye fell on his servant.