roach the matter which, as I conjectured, had been occupying his thoughts all the evening.
Having mixed himself a glass of grog and lighted his pipe, he drew his chair close up to the one occupied by my father, and, lowering his voice to a confidential tone, said:
"Look here, Laurence! The real reason why I rode over here this afternoon was not personally to congratulate Ned upon the occurrence of his birthday, but to ask you how you happen to be off for ammunition. I have been wondering whether you could spare me a little."
"Well," said my father, "I think we can let you have a little, though not very much, for our own stock is growing rather low. How much do you want?"
"Could you let me have, say, twenty pounds of powder and--?" began Lestrange.
"Twenty pounds!" ejaculated my father in surprise. "No, that I certainly cannot; for I do not think we have more than half that quantity altogether. But I dare say we can let you have four or five pounds to tide you over until you