his father and Dan. If they found out that he expected to earn so
much money, they would insist on a division of the spoils, and if
their demand was not complied with, there would be trouble in the
cabin. He had no fear of his father now, but here was Dan, who was an
unpleasant fellow to have about when he was crossed, and he seemed to
know all about it. There were troublous times ahead; David was sure
of that.

"What does that feller up North want with so many quails, anyhow?"
asked Dan, as he placed one of the oak blocks upon its end and began
splitting off a shingle with the frow. "He can't eat 'em all by
hisself."

"No, he wants to turn them loose and let them run," replied David,
with as much good nature as he could assume. "You see they had an
awful hard winter up there last year, and the quails were all killed
off."

"Wall, what does the fule want to let 'em go fur, arter he's bought
'em?"

"Why, he wants to stock the country. He belongs to a Sportsman's Club
up there. He and his friends will have a law passed keeping folks
from shooting them for two or three years, and then there'll be just
as many birds as there were before."

"Is that the way them rich fellers does?"

"That's what Don says."