“Now, who has done this?” he shouted. “Didn’t I give express orders that my gun was to be left alone! By Jove, whoever has been meddling with it ought to have a sound thrashing! Might have killed somebody, besides breaking windows! Come now! Who did it?”
There was nobody to answer. The servants were all at a loss,—Boy and Alister were out in the grounds, so it was said,—no one had touched the gun,—it must have gone off by itself.
“D——d nonsense!” roared the Major, forgetting the presence of Miss Leslie, who stood looking at the broken window in perplexity,—“I put the gun up in a safe corner out of harm’s way. If it had gone off by itself the charge would have lodged in the ceiling, not through the window. I am not such an ass as not to see that! Some one has been playing pranks with it! Where’s Boy?”
“Oh, Boy wouldn’t touch it,” protested Miss Letty, “I’m sure he wouldn’t!”
“Well, where is he?” persisted the Major: “he may know something about it!” and marching outside the door he called, “Boy!” in a voice strong enough to awaken all the fabled sleeping giants of the hills.
Boy answered the call with quite an amazing promptitude.
“Yes, Major!”
The Major stared.
“Where did you come from so suddenly?” he demanded. “You young rascal! You have been meddling with my gun!”
“I’m sure I haven’t!” replied Boy coolly.