"Here, Marston, you know I often said ye should have the old rifle
when I was rich enough to get a new one. Take it _now_, lad. It's come
to ye sooner than either o' us expected."

"Dick," said the boy, grasping his friend's hand warmly, "ye're true
as heart of oak. It's good of 'ee; that's a fact."

"Not a bit, boy; it costs me nothin' to give away an old gun that I've
no use for, an's worth little, but it makes me right glad to have the
chance to do it."

Marston had longed for a rifle ever since he could walk; but his
prospects of obtaining one were very poor indeed at that time, and it
is a question whether he did not at that moment experience as much joy
in handling the old piece as his friend felt in shouldering the prize.

A difficulty now occurred which had not before been thought of. This
was no less than the absolute refusal of Dick Varley's canine property
to follow him. Fan had no idea of changing masters without her consent
being asked or her inclination being consulted.

"You'll have to tie her up for a while, I fear," said the major.

"No fear," answered the youth. "Dog natur's like human natur'!"

Saying this he seized Crusoe by the neck, stuffed him comfortably into
the bosom of his hunting-shirt, and walked rapidly away with the prize
rifle on his shoulder.

Fan had not bargained for this. She stood irresolute, gazing now to