Kennedy Square

ing the steps now, St. George carrying the guns, Todd loaded down with the game--ten brace of canvas-backs and redheads strung together by their bills--the driver of the gig following with the master's big ducking overcoat and smaller traps--the four dogs crowding up trying to nose past for a dash into the wide hall as soon as Todd opened the door.

"Anybody been here lately, Todd?" his master asked, stopping for a moment to get a better grip of his heaviest duck gun.

"Ain't nobody been yere partic'ler 'cept Mister Harry Rutter. Dey alls knowed you was away. Been yere mos' ev'ry day--come ag'in yisterday."

"Mr. Rutter been here!--Well, what did he want?"

"Dunno, sah,--didn't say. Seemed consid'ble shook up when he foun' you warn't to home. I done tol' him you might be back to-day an' den ag'in you mightn't--'pended on de way de ducks was flyin'. Spec' he'll be roun' ag'in purty soon--seemed ter hab sumpin' on his min'. I'll tu'n de knob, sah. Yere--git down, you imp o' darkness,--you Floe!--you Dan