"Haven't met him yet," said Devine dryly. "Who's he?"
"Colonel Mowbray, of Allenwood Grange."
"And who's Colonel Mowbray? And where's Allenwood Grange?"
The boy seemed nettled by the twinkle in Devine's eyes, but Harding noticed that pride compelled him to hide his feelings.
"You can't cut this lumber without asking leave! Besides, you're spoiling one of our best coyote covers."
"Kyotes!" exclaimed Devine. "What do you do with 'em?"
The youngster stared at him a moment in disdain.
"We have a pack of hounds at the Grange," he then condescended to answer.
"Hunt them! Well, now, that's mighty strange. I'd have thought you'd find arsenic cheaper. Then if you were to lie out round the chicken-house with a gun——"
The boy cut him short.