"Therefore I shall feel the more at home. Papa always spoiled me by
letting me have my own way, and I shall often tax your patience. Do you
know, I never saw a gun loaded before. There seems to be so much going on
here, and I have lived such a quiet life of late. How will you make the
thing go off?"

"These little precussion-caps will do the business. It seems to me that
I've always been quiet, and perhaps a trifle heavy. I hope you will think
it your mission to render me less matter-of-fact. I'm ready now, and here
comes Burt with his breech-loader. If you will go to your room now, you
can see our shots."

A moment later she stood with Johnnie at her window, both almost holding
their breath in expectation as they saw the young men, with Alf following,
steal toward a clump of evergreens behind the house.

"Quiet and steady now," Webb cautioned his eager brother; "and, Alf, you
step in my tracks, so there may be no noise." Thus they made their way
among the pines, and peered cautiously out. "Hold on, Burt," Webb
whispered, as the former was bringing his gun to his shoulder; "I want a
crack at them as well as yourself. Let's reconnoitre. Yes, there are
three or four of the scamps. Let Alf see them. They look so pretty in the
moonlight that I've scarcely the heart to disturb, much less to kill
them."

"Oh, stop your sentimental nonsense!" muttered Burt, impatiently. "It's
confoundedly cold, and they may take fright and disappear."

"Black ingratitude!" Webb exclaimed. "If there isn't one in the apple