Jeff stopped as soon as he could check his headlong flight, and when he had satisfied himself as to the identity of the approaching hunter, he came slowly back.
Oscar knew the two boys, but he never had had anything to do with them. They lived near the river, and belonged to what the order-loving portion of the villagers called a "hard crowd."
"What have you been up to?" asked Oscar, as soon as he came within speaking distance. "Something mean, I'll warrant."
"No, we haven't!" answered both the boys in concert. "We haven't been up to anything."
It was only necessary that Oscar should use his eyes to detect the falsehood. One glance around explained everything. The snares which Leon had worked so hard to build were all ruined. Oscar knew that they were Leon's snares, for no one else would be likely to build them on his father's grounds.
"You are a contemptible couple!" said he indignantly; "although I don't know that one can expect you to be anything else. What made you do it?"
"Well, what made Leon shoot my tame pigeons the last time he was down to the river?" whined one of the boys. "He knowed they was mine, but he plumped 'em over all the same. I said I'd spile something of his'n some day, to pay for it, and I've done it."
"That's a pretty way to get even with him, isn't it?" said Oscar. "I've the best notion in the world to take you both by the neck and knock your heads together. Did you find any birds in these snares?"
"Nary one; and no rabbits neither."