good-humoredly.

Munn regarded him in sulky silence.

"It won't do," continued Lansing, smiling; "if you net trout you'll have
the wardens after you."

"Oh! and I suppose you'll furnish the information," sneered Munn.

"I certainly will," replied Lansing.

Munn had retraced his steps towards the river. As the men passed before
Eileen O'Hara, Lansing raised his cap. She did not return his salute;
she looked towards the spot where he and Munn had halted, and her face
bore that quaint, listening expression, almost pitifully sweet, as
though she were deaf.

"Peter, our head-keeper, saw you netting trout in that pool last night,"
said Lansing.

Munn examined the water and muttered that the Bible gave him his
authority for that sort of fishing.

"He's a fake," thought Lansing, in sudden disgust. Involuntarily he
glanced around at the girl under the elm. The beauty of her pale face
startled him. Surely innocence looked out of those dark-blue eyes, fixed
on him under the shadow of her straw hat. He noted that she also wore
the silvery-gray uniform of the elect. He turned his eyes towards the
house, where a dozen women, old and young, were sitting out under the
tree, sewing and singing peacefully. The burden of their song came
sweetly across the pasture; a golden robin, high in the elm's feathery
tip, warbled incessant accompaniment to the breeze and the flowing of
water and the far song of the women.

"We don't mean to annoy you," said Lansing, quietly; "I for one believe
that we shall find you and your community the best of courteous
neighbors."

Munn looked at him with his cunning, amber-yellow eyes and stroked his
beard.

"What do you want, anyway?" he said.

"I'll tell you what I want," said Lansing, sharply; "I want you and
your people to observe the game laws."

"Keep your shirt on, young man," said Munn, coarsely, and turned on his
heel. Before he had taken the second step Lansing laid his hand on his
shoulder and spun him around, his grip tightening like a vise.

"What y' doing?" snarled Munn, shrinking and squirming, terrified by the
violent grasp, the pain of which almost sickened him.

Lansing looked at him, then shoved him out of his path, and carefully
rinsed his hands in the stream. Then he laughed and turned around, but
Munn was making rapid time towards the house, where the gray-clad women
sat singing under the neglected apple-trees. The young man's eyes fell
on the girl under the elm; she