"Office work?" asked Redbud, beginning to grow more like her former self.
"Oh, yes!" Verty replied; "I'm in Mr. Rushton's office now, and I'm a lawyer's clerk;—that's what they call it, I believe."
Redbud returned his bright smile. Her eye wandered toward Cloud, who stood perfectly still—the turkey, which had not been removed, yet dangling at his saddle-bow.
Verty followed the young girl's glance, and smiled.
"I know what you are looking at," he said; "you are looking at that wild turkey, and thinking that I am a poor sort of a lawyer, with such a book to read out of. But I shot him coming along."
Redbud laughed; her coolness could not last in Verty's presence; his fresh voice, so full of their old happy times, made her a child again.
"And how did you find me'?" she said, in her old tone.
"By your pigeon!"
"My pigeon?
"Yes, indeed; I shot him."