given him to understand, with fowling pieces, but with
(at the present close quarters at least) far more efficient
weapons--pistols. He was relieved from his embarrassment
by Middlemore exclaiming:

"Nay, do not press the poor devil, Grantham; I dare say
the story of his hunting is all a hum, and that the fact
is, he is merely going to earn an honest penny in one of
his free commercial speculations--a little contraband,"
pointing with his finger to the bows, "is it not
Desborough?"

"Why now, officer," said the Yankee, rapidly assuming a
dogged air, as if ashamed of the discovery that had been
so acutely made, "I expect you won't hurt a poor fellor
for doin' a little in this way. Drot me, these are hard
times, and this here war jist beginnin', quite pits one
to one's shifts."

"This might do, Desborough, were your present freight an
arrival instead of a departure, but we all know that
contraband is imported, not exported."

"Mighty cute you are, I guess," replied the settler,
warily, with something like the savage grin of the wild
cat, to which he had so recently alluded; "but I expect
it would be none so strange to have packed up a few dried
hog skins to stow away the goods I am goin' for."

"I should like to try the effect of a bullet among the