"Yes."
"And good comrades—even if we can't be more?"
"Yes."
"And help each other under fire?"
"Yes."
"You make me very happy," he said simply; and turned to the Seminole who was emerging from obscurity, shoulders buried under a mass of bronzed feathers from which dangled two grotesque heads.
One was a gobbler—a magnificent patriarch; and Shiela with a little cry of delight turned to Hamil: "That's yours! I congratulate you with all my heart!"
"No, no!" he protested, "the gobbler fell to you—"
"It is yours!" she repeated firmly; "mine is this handsome, plump hen—"
"I won't claim that magnificent gobbler! Little Tiger, didn't Miss Cardross shoot this bird?"