"Aha, my fine fellow," said he to himself; "you are the high-toned lord who would not hunt with strangers, especially American boys! I know what is the matter with you, and if your arrogance has met with another rebuke I am very glad of it."
After a few turns across the room the colonel seemed to have worked off a little of his rage, for he stopped and looked out at one of the other windows.
Just then Oscar's oxen came into the stable-yard, and a fine-looking lot they were—large, powerful animals, as black as jet and as sleek as moles.
"Whose stock is that?" demanded the colonel in much the same tone he would have used if he had been ordering one of his hounds out of his way.
"It is mine, sir," replied Oscar politely.
The colonel started at the sound of his voice and stared hard at the boy, who smiled and touched his cap to him.
CHAPTER III. A DISGUSTED SPORTSMAN.
This was not the first time Oscar had met Colonel Dunhaven, for that was the angry Englishman's name. On the contrary, they had travelled a good many miles in company and were pretty well acquainted; but the colonel could not be sure on this point until he had pulled out his gold eyeglass and brought it to bear on the boy.