ich odour of cooked
meat greeted his nostrils. Uttering a deep growl, the butler shouted
out, `Sprat!'

"Upon this, a very thin boy, with arms and legs like pipe stems, issued
from the kitchen, and came timidly towards his master.

"`Didn't I tell you, you young blackguard, that the grouse-pie was to be
kept for Sunday? and there you've gone and put it to fire to-day.'

"`The grouse-pie!' said the boy, in amazement.

"`Yes, the grouse-pie,' retorted the indignant butler; and seizing the
urchin by the neck, he held his head down to the mouth of the oven.

"`Smell _that_, you villain! What did you mean by it, eh?'

"`Oh, murder!' shouted the boy, as with a violent effort he freed
himself, and ran shrieking into the house.

"`Murder!' repeated Anderson in astonishment, while he stooped to look
into the oven, where the first thing that met his gaze was a human head,
whose ghastly visage and staring eyeballs worked and moved about under
the influence of the heat as if it were alive.

"With a yell that rang through the whole fort, the horrified butler
rushed through the kitchen and out at the front door, where, as ill-luck
would have it, Mr Rogan happened to be standing at the moment.
Pitching head first into the small of the old gentleman's back, he threw
him off the platform and fell into his arms. Starting up in a moment,
the governor dealt Anderson a cuff that sent him reeling towards the
kitchen door again, on the steps of which he sat down, and began to sing
out, `Oh, murder, murder! the oven, the oven!' and not another word,
bad, good, or indifferent, could be got out of him for the next
half-hour, as he swayed himself to and fro and wrung his hands.

"To make a long story short, Mr Rogan went himself to the oven, and
fished out the head, along with the loaves, which were, of course, all
spoiled."

"And what was the result?" inquired Harry.

"Oh, there was a long investigation, and the skipper got a blowing-up,
and the doctor a warning to let Indians' skulls lie at peace in their
graves for the future; and poor Butter was sent to McKenzie's River as a
punishment, for old Rogan could never be brought to believe that he
hadn't been a willing tool in the skipper's hands; and Anderson lost his
batch of bread and his oven, for it had to be pulled down and a new one
built."

"Humph! and I've no doubt the governor read you a pretty stiff lecture
on practical joking."

"He did," replied the accountant, layin