"What did you do with the triggers and strings?"
"We heaved 'em into the bushes as fur as we could, and it's too dark to find 'em again. Say, Oscar, you won't tell nobody about this, will you? That's a good feller."
"No blarney, now. I'll tell you this much," was Oscar's angry reply; "if I catch either of you in an act of this kind again, I'll give you a shaking that will do your hearts good. Now, remember it!"
So saying, he walked past the young vandals, who took care to give him all the room he wanted, and disappeared in the thicket which covered the other side of the hill.
The two boys did not move or speak until they were certain that he had really gone, and then one of them hurried to the fallen log, snatched up the bundle that was lying behind it, and ran off in a direction lying at right angles with the one Oscar had taken, his companion following close behind him.
The bundle, which seemed to be about as heavy as the boy could conveniently manage, was made up of quail, grouse, and hares, rightfully belonging to Leon.
If Oscar had not been in such haste to reach home and prepare his black fox for mounting, if he had taken a little time to look into things, as he afterward wished he had done—a certain incident we have already recorded never would have happened.