Oscar was obliged to laugh in spite of himself.
"Well, promise me that you won't poke any more boys in the ribs with ball-clubs because they talk about me, for I know that was what Leon did," said he.
"I promise. I'll never do it again," assured Sam earnestly.
"And whatever you do, don't touch Leon Parker," continued Oscar. "I owe a great deal to his father, and I wouldn't have Leon hurt for anything. He hasn't injured me by his talking, and neither has anybody; for not one of those whose friendship I prize has turned against me."
"That's so," assented Sam. "Well, I suppose I must say good-night. Shall we take another trip down the river next Saturday?"
"I'll tell you what I'd like to do," replied Oscar. "I'd like to make an effort to recover the gun the professor lost when his boat upset. He said it was a borrowed piece, and a very valuable one, too."
"I am with you. We'll take the decoys along, and then if the ducks happen to come our way, we shall be all ready for them. Good-night! I think I was quite safe in saying that I wouldn't trouble Leon anymore," said Sam, as he opened the front door and entered the house, "for the lesson I gave him a few days ago will teach him that he had better keep his slanderous tongue still. A ball-club is a pretty hard thing to push against a fellow's ribs—that's a fact—and I'll not do it any more. I'll use my fist next time."
If Oscar had overheard this soliloquy, he would have been compelled to acknowledge that he had not gained much by the promise he had extorted from his friend Sam.
The young taxidermist walked homeward with a light heart. There was nothing now to prevent him from taking his mother into his confidence, which he proceeded to do as soon as he had entered the house.
Mrs. Preston listened attentively to his story, and when it was finished, she said, with something like a sigh: