second rabbit, was Bob Hopley, the keeper, his big, sturdy
form seeming to tower above us, and, caught, as we were in this
nefarious act, filling me with dread.

"Got you this time then," he said gruffly.

"There, what did I say?" cried Magglin, in a sharp, acid voice that
sounded almost like a woman's. "I told you that you oughtn't to be
catching them rabbids, and now you see what trouble you're in."

"Oh, you told 'em so, did you, my lad?" said the keeper in a deep, angry
voice, and he seemed like a great mastiff growling at a common-looking
cur. "Then I 'spose it's their ferret in yon burrows, eh? there it is!"
he continued, as the buff-looking, snaky animal now came out of one of
the holes close by us, and Mercer stooped and picked it up as it made
for the dead rabbit.

"Oh yes, it's their farret, 'tarn't mine," said Magglin quickly.

"Yes, it's my ferret, Mr Hopley," Mercer said dolefully.

"And their nets, eh? Here, you stand still. You try to run away, and
I'll send a charge o' small shot after you, and that can run faster than
you can."

"More'n you dare do, big Bob Hopley," cried Magglin, backing away up the
hill; and I thought how cowardly the man's nature must be, for him to
propose this expedition and then sneak away from us like that. But
almost at the same moment I saw a tall, stern gentleman appear from
among the pine trees toward which Magglin was backing, for the keeper
had presented his gun, evidently to take the labourer's attention, as I
saw that, if matters went on in the way in which they were going, our
companion would back right up into the new-comer's arms.

"You stop, will you!" cried the keeper.

"You stop yourself," cried Magglin. "You've got them as belongs to the
ferret and was rabbiting. Good-night."

"Will you stop, or am I to shoot?" cried Hopley.

"Yah!" came back; and as the keeper dropped his gun into the hollow of
his arm with a grim smile on his face, there was a loud _thwack_ and a
startled, "Oh!" for the tall gentleman had stood still, Magglin had
reached him, and a stick fell heavily across the poacher's shoulders.

"You scoundrel!" he roared, making a snatch at Magglin's collar, but the
man was too slippery. He dropped on his knees, rolled down the slope a
few yards, sprang up, and dashed off.

"Don't matter, Sir Hawkus!" shouted the keeper. "I know my gentleman,
and can send him a summons. Now, young gents, you've got in for it this
time. Bad company's