r again see that
boar. Denman, keeper at Northgate when Mr. Atwood owned the estate, told
me that everybody had been after that boar and nobody ever got a shot at
him. Which," she added, "does not surprise me, as there are some hundred
square miles of mountain and forest on this estate, and Scott is lazy
and aging very fast."

"By the way, Sis, you say you got a four-year near The Green Pass?"

She nodded, busy with her bon-bon.

"Was it exciting?" asked Duane, secretly eaten up with pride over her
achievements and sportsmanship.

"No, not very." She went on with her bon-bon, then glanced up at her
brother, askance, like a bad child afraid of being reported.

"Old Miller is so fussy," she said--"the old, spoilt tyrant! He is
really very absurd sometimes."

"Oho!" said Scott suspiciously, "so Miller is coming to me again!"

"He--I'm afraid he is. Did you," appealing to Kathleen, "ever know a
more obstinate, unreasoning old man----"

"Geraldine! What did you do!" she exclaimed.

"Yes," said Scott, annoyed, "what the deuce have you been up to now?
Miller is perfectly right; he's an old hunter and knows his business,
and when he comes to me and complains that you take fool risks, he's
doing his duty!"

He turned to Duane:

"That idiot girl," he said, nodding toward his abashed sister, "knocked
over a boar last month, ran up to look at his tusks, and was hurled
into a snowdrift by the beast, who was only creased. He went for Miller,
too, and how he and my sister ever escaped without a terrible slashing
before Geraldine shot the brute, nobody knows.... There's his head up
there--the wicked-looking one over the fireplace."

"That's not good sportsmanship," said Duane gravely.

Geraldine hung her head, colouring.

"I know it; I mean to keep cool; truly, I do. But things happen so
quickly----"

"Why are you afraid Miller is going to complain?" interrupted her
brother.

"Scott--it wasn't anything very much--that is, I didn't think so. You'd
have done it--you know it's a point of honour to track down wounded
game."

She turned to Duane:

"The Green Pass feeding-ground was about a thousand yards ahead in the
alders, and I made Miller wait while I crept up. There was a fine boar
feeding about two hundred yards off, and I fired and he went over like a
cat in a fit, and then up and off, and I after him, and Miller after me,
telling me to look out."

She laughed excitedly, and made a little gesture. "That's ju