"I've been playing robber 'n policeman with Johnny English and Carter Irvine and all the kids," explained Bobby blissfully.
After lunch Mr. Orde kissed his son good-bye.
"Going up in the woods for a week, sonny," said he.
"Papa," asked Bobby holding tight to the man's hand, "can I have the kids shoot with my rifle?"
"Not any!" cried Mr. Orde emphatically. "Not until I get back. Then maybe we'll have a shooting-match and invite all hands."
He was slipping on his overcoat as he spoke.
"Which of the boys do you like best?" he asked casually.
"I don't know," replied Bobby after an instant's thought. "Carter Irvine's got an air-gun: I like him. And Johny English is all right, too. I wish I were as strong as Johnny English," he ended with a sigh.
Mr. Orde paused in reaching for his valise.
"Can he take you down?" he asked shrewdly.