hurt.

"I'm not mad," he disclaimed and heaved so mighty a heave that Johnny,
being unprepared by reason of shouting to the others, was tumbled off
one side. Instantly Bobby jumped to his feet and scudded away.

He was captured eventually--so were the others--but only after fierce
struggles. Even did a policeman catch and hold a robber, to drag the
latter to jail was no easy problem. For if he summoned the help of a
brother officer that left at large an unattached robber who would create
diversions and attempt rescues. At times all eight were piled in a
breathless, tugging, rolling mass, while Carrie, behind her rustic
table, looked on serenely lest some of the simple rules of the game be
violated. In fact Carrie was just as severe in anticipation of possible
infractions, as over the infractions themselves, which, perhaps, goes
far to explain Carrie.

Bobby returned home at lunch time to be received with horror by Mrs.
Orde.

"You're a sight!" she cried. "_Where_ have you been, and _what_ have you
been doing? I never saw anything like you! And look at those holes in
your stockings."

"I've been playing robber 'n policeman with Johnny English and Carter
Irvine and all the kids," explained Bobby blissfully.

After lunch Mr. Orde kissed his son good-bye.

"Going up in the woods for a week, sonny," said he.

"Papa," asked Bobby holding tight to the man's hand, "can I have the
kids shoot with my rifle?"

"Not any!" cried Mr. Orde emphatically. "Not until I get back. Then
maybe we'll have a shooting-match and invite all hands."

He was slipping on his overcoat as he spoke.

"Which of the boys do you like best?" he asked casually.

"I don't know," replied Bobby after an instant's thought. "Carter
Irvine's got an air-gun: I like him. And Johny English is all right,
too. I wish I were as strong as Johnny English," he ended with a sigh.

Mr. Orde paused in reaching for his valise.

"Can he take you down?" he asked shrewdly.

"Yes, sir!" replied Bobby with a vivid flush.

"All right, you be a good boy, and when I get back I'll show you a few
tricks to fool Mr. Johnny," Mr. Orde chuckled. "There's a lot in knowing
how."

XIV

THE SHOOTING CLUB

When Bobby proposed again that his father oversee general shoots in the
back yard, the latter demurred.

"Haven't any time," said he. "And you youngsters certainly can't be
turned loose with two guns alone. I'll tell you: you organize your club,
and have a