"Thought I had, but I guess I only winged him."

Abram's fingers closed around his club. At the sound of his
friend's voice, the Cardinal came darting through the bushes a
wavering flame, and swept so closely to him for protection that a
wing almost brushed his cheek.

"See here! See here!" shrilled the bird in deadly panic. There
was not a cut feather on him.

Abram's relief was so great he seemed to shrink an inch in
height.

"Young man, you better thank your God you missed that bird," he
said solemnly, "for if you'd killed him, I'd a-mauled this stick
to ribbons on you, an' I'm most afraid I wouldn't a-knowed when
to quit."

He advanced a step in his eagerness, and the hunter, mistaking
his motive, levelled his gun.

"Drop that!" shouted Abram, as he broke through the bushes that
clung to him, tore the clothing from his shoulders, and held him
back. "Drop that! Don't you dare point a weapon at me; on my
own premises, an' after you passed your word.

"Your word!" repeated Abram, with withering scorn, his white,
quivering old face terrible to see. "Young man, I got a couple
o' things to say to you. You'r' shaped like a man, an' you'r'