"The worst of it is, I've ruined your chances, Mort," said he.
And Morton did not reply.
CHAPTER VI.
THE FALL HUNT.
Morton led Kike home in silence, and then returned to his father's house, deposited his turkey outside the door, and sat down on a broken chair by the fire-place. His father, a hypochondriac, hard of hearing, and slow of thought and motion, looked at him steadily a moment, and then said:
"Sick, Mort? Goin' to have a chill?"
"No, sir."
"You look powerful dauncy," said the old man, as he stuffed his pipe full of leaf tobacco which he had chafed in his hand, and sat down on the other side of the fire-place. "I feel a kind of all-overishness myself. I 'low we'll have the fever in the bottoms this year. Hey?"
"I don't know, sir."
"What?"