"Hallo! is that you?" was the rather superfluous question of Herbert, as
he waited for the two boys to come up. He recognized Nick, but of course
was a stranger to Sam Harper, to whom Nick introduced him, and there was
a general shaking of hands all around.

Young Watrous glanced rather askance at his old school-mate, but there
was such a cordial welcome on the part of the young "American of Dutch
descent" that all reserve vanished.

A certain loftiness of manner and conceit of expression, however, were
natural to Herbert, and he did not fail to look down, in a literal and
figurative sense, upon the two hunters.

"That's a fine gun you have there, Herbert," said Nick, venturing to
reach out his hand for it.

"Yes," answered Herbert, passing it to him rather gingerly, "be careful
not to drop it."

The gun was a beautiful weapon, known as the long range "Creedmoor." It
was a Remington, highly finished, and cost $125. It had a front sight,
known as the wind-gauge, with the spirit-level, and with the vernier
sight on the stock, which is raised from its flat position when the
hunter wishes to shoot a long distance, and is graduated up to a
thousand yards, carrying a 44 cartridge.

"That isn't of much account in this part of the world," said Sam Harper,
passing the weapon back; "it's light enough, for I don't suppose it
weighs more than six or seven pounds."