"What are you after?" asked Harry.

"Turkeys," said Tony.

Tony Kirk was always after turkeys. He was a wild-turkey hunter by
profession. It is true there were seasons of the year when he did not
shoot turkeys, but although at such times he worked a little at farming
and fished a little, he nearly always found it necessary to do something
that related to turkeys. He watched their haunts, he calculated their
increase, he worked out problems which proved to him where he would find
them most plentiful in the fall, and his mind was seldom free from the
consideration of the turkey question.

"Isn't it rather early for turkeys?" asked Harry.

"Well, yes," said Tony, "but I'm tired o' waitin."

"I'm goin' to make a short cut," continued Tony, striking out of the
road into a narrow path in the woods. "You can save half a mile by
comin' this way."

So Harry followed him.

"I don't mind takin' you," said Tony, "fur I know you kin keep a secret.
My turkey-blind is over yander;" and as he said this he put his hand
into his coat pocket and pulled out a handful of shelled corn, which he
began to scatter along the path, a grain or two at a time. After ten or
fifteen minutes' walking, Tony scattering corn all the way, they came to
a mass of oak and chestnut boughs, piled up on one side of the path like
a barrier. This was the turkey-blind. It was four or five feet high, and