ter of honor--"

"Honor is an egg that don't hatch in this country," interrupted the
stranger; and the quid went into the other cheek, while the head went
over on the other side, as if to balance it. "But never mind; 'tain't my
cut to interfere with another feller's luck. Show me your deer."

Jack took him through the thickets to his ambush. There were the deer
still feeding; the old one lifting her head occasionally as if on the
lookout for danger. They seemed to be moving slowly along the slope.

The dark eyes of the strange youth kindled; then he said, with a low
laugh,--

"I'd like a cut-bore rifle for them fellers! You never can get 'em with
that popgun."

"I believe I can if you'll help me. You notice there's a range of hills
between us and them; and they are on the north slope of one. I've been
surveying a little of the country off south, and I think you can get
around the range that way, and come out beyond the deer, before they see
you. There's everything in our favor. The wind blows to us from them. At
the first alarm they'll start for the woods; and they'll be pretty sure
to keep along in the hollow. I'll watch here, and take them as they come
in."

Quid and head rolled again; and the strange youth said jeeringly, with
one eye half closed, looking at Jack,--

"So you expect me to travel a mile or two, and drive the deer in for
you?" He then pulled down the nether lid of the half-closed eye, and
inquired, somewhat irrelevantly, whether Jack saw anything green there.
"Not by this light!" he answered his own question, as he let up his
eyelid and snapped his thumb and finger. "Ye can't ketch old birds with
chaff. I've been through the lot. Parley-voo frong-say?"

Jack regarded him with astonishment, declaring that there was no catch
about it. "Only help me, and we will share the game together."

Still the fellow demurred. "I've walked my legs off to-day already;
you'll find 'em back in the road here! Had nothing to eat since morning;
wore myself down lean as a rail; felt for the last two hours as though
there was nothing but my backbone between me and eternity! No, sir-ree!
I wouldn't walk that fur out of my way for a herd of deer. If I had a
horse to ride I wouldn't mind."

Jack was greatly excited. He had never yet had a good shot at a deer;
and if, at the end of his day's work, he could carry home a good fat
doe, and perhaps a fawn, of his own shooting, it would be a triumph. So,
without a moment's