"Why, you know there is a law in this State which says that game shall not be shot except at certain seasons of the year, and a game-constable is a man whose business it is to see that the law is obeyed. It is against the law to trap partridges and quails, and if we had a game-constable in town I shouldn't have set these snares, for I should have rendered myself liable to prosecution; but the office is vacant now, for there was no one elected to fill it last year."
"I think Oscar was taking a good deal upon himself," said Frank.
"So do I; and the reason he did it was because every partridge or rabbit that I catch leaves just one less for him to shoot for market. But these are my father's grounds, and I shall give him to understand, the first time I meet him, that I want him to keep away from here. You and I can shoot all the birds there are in these woods."
"I wouldn't take the trouble to say a word to him," replied Frank. "I'd pay him back in his own coin. If he wouldn't let me snare birds, I wouldn't let him hunt foxes. Do you ever see that hound of his running about the woods?"
"Oh, yes, I often see him!"
"Well, the next time you put eyes on him just bushwhack him and send a charge of shot into him."
"I can do that, can't I?" exclaimed Leon, growing excited at once. "But what if Oscar should find it out?" he added, after he had taken a second thought.
"Very likely he will find it out. He will know that somebody has shot his hound when he finds him dead, won't he?"
"But I mean—suppose he should find out that I did it?"
"I don't see how he can do it. The hound, if he is following a trail, will probably be some distance in advance of his master, and all you've got to do is to knock him over and dig out. It isn't at all probable that Oscar will ever find out who did the shooting; but if he does, you can tell him that you did it to square accounts with him for destroying your snares."