"Who is this?" asked Bladen.

"I'll tell, you presently," said Crenshaw. "Come, speak up,
sonny, what do you want?"

"Please, sir, I want this here old spo'tin' rifle," said: the
child. "Please, sir, I want to keep it," he added.

"Well, you run along on out of here with your old spo'tin'
rifle!" said Crenshaw good-naturedly.

"Please, sir, am I to keep it?"

"Yes, I reckon you may keep it--least I've no objection."
Crenshaw glanced at Bladen.

"Oh, by all means," said the latter. Spasms of delight shook the
small figure, and with a murmur that was meant for thanks he
backed from the room, closing the door. Bladen glanced
inquiringly at Crenshaw.

"You want to know about him, sir? Well, that's Hannibal Wayne
Hazard."

"Hannibal Wayne Hazard?" repeated Bladen.

"Yes, sir; the general was the authority on that point, but who
Hannibal Wayne Hazard is and how he happens to be at the Barony
is another mystery--just wait a minute, sir--" and quitting his