“Well, come on,” said Mark, quite ready, “The road goes over the hills by Jack’s. O! I know!”
“What is it?” for Mark had jumped up.
“Jack’s got a rifle,” said Mark. “He’ll lot us shoot. Let’s go and stop with Jack.”
“First-rate,” said Bevis. “But how do you know he has a rifle? There wasn’t one when I was there last—you mean the long gun.”
“No, I don’t; he’s got a rifle. I know, because he told Frances. He tells Frances everything. Stupids always tell girls everything. Somebody wanted to sell it, and he bought it.”
“Are you quite sure?” said Bevis, getting up.
“Quite.”
“What sort is it?”
“A deer rifle.”
“Come on.”