“No.”
“Then he’s never been taught not to run them?”
“Neither had Jackson’s dog.”
“What I mean,” said Westley, “is this. He doesn’t know it’s wrong to run deer.”
“That’s no excuse.”
“I’m not excusing him.”
Proutt swore. “Well, what are you doing?”
“I’m going to take him into the swamp and find a deer,” said Westley slowly. “See what he does. He’s never been taught not to run them. So he’ll run any that we find. If it’s in him to do it, he’ll take after them—”
Proutt nodded; and there was a certain triumph in his eyes. “You take your gun along,” he said. “You’re going to need that gun.”
Westley, white and steady, said: “I’ll take the gun. Will you come along?”