of course.”
“Well, I don’t. There may be another man down here with that one, fishing or hunting, but I don’t believe in the presence of a company of them.”
“But why not, Dick?”
“Simply because it is unlikely. On its face it seems to me more likely that, as we had caught that fellow stealing, he invented the formidable and vengeful force theory just to scare us into letting him go. What would there be for such a band as he suggests to do down here in these lonely woods? What is there here to attract such a band?”
“I am not prepared to answer those questions,” said Cal. “I can’t imagine what a gang of that sort could be doing here, or why they are here, or anything about it. But it is my firm conviction that we have need to keep cartridges in our guns and about our persons.”
“Oh, that’s of course,” answered Dick; “though if there is any such gang and they don’t attack us early this morning, we needn’t look for them before night, so we’ll have plenty of time for getting a good supply of game.”
“All right,” said Cal. “And by way of making sure, as it’s coming on daylight now, I’ll go and get that turkey gobbler I was speaking of. I’ll be back to breakfast.”
With that Cal started off, gun in hand, leaving the rest to wonder.
“How can he be so confident of finding game?” Dick asked, with a note of incredulity in his voice.
“I don’t know,” answered Larry, “but it’s nine chances in ten that he’ll do it. He’s the wiliest hunter I ever knew, and with all his chatter, he never says a thing of that kind without meaning it; especially he never gives a positive promise unless he is confident of his ability to fulfill it. So I expect to see him back here before we have breakfast ready, with a turkey gobbler slung over his shoulders.”
“Why ‘gobbler,’ Larry?” Dick asked, looking up from the mortar in which he was pounding the coffee.
“How do you mean, Dick?”
“Why, it wasn’t just a turkey that Cal promised us, but specifically a gobbler, and now when you speak of it you also assume that the bird he is to kill will be of the male sex. Why may it not be a turkey hen?”
“Why, he wouldn’t think of shooting a turkey hen at this time of year. They’re bringing up their chicks now and they won’t be fit to eat for a month yet. So if he brings any turkey with him it’ll be a bearded old gobbler as fat as butter.”
At that moment a shot was heard at some distance. The next instant there was another, after which all was still.
“I say, Larry, I don’t like that,” said Tom uneasily.
“Don’t like what?”
“Why, those two shots in quick succession. Maybe Cal has met some of that gang and they’ve shot him. Hadn’t we better go to his assistance?”
“You may go if you are uneasy, Tom,” answered Larry; “but it isn’t at all necessary I think. Cal knows how to take care of himself.”
“But how do you account for the two shots in such quick succession?”
“By the fact that Cal usually hunts with cartridges in both barrels of his gun just as other people do. He may have missed at the first fire. In that case he would take a second shot if he could get it.”
Tom was somewhat reassured by this suggestion, but he was not entirely free from anxiety until ten minutes later when he heard the crackling of dry branches under Cal’s big boots. A moment afterwards Cal himself appeared, with two huge gobblers slung over his neck.
“So you got one with each barrel,” quietly commented Larry, feeling of the birds to test their fatness.
“Yes, of course. That’s what I fired twice for. Did you imagine I’d shoot the second barrel just for fun? By the way, isn’t breakfast nearly ready? I’m pretty sharp set in this crisp morning air.”
“I must say, Cal,” said Dick, as the little company sat on the ground to eat their breakfast, “you’re the very coolest hand I ever saw. Why, if I had shot two big gobblers out of one flock of turkeys I’d be tiring the rest of you with minute descriptions – more or less inaccurate, perhaps – of just how I did it, and just how I felt while doing it, and just how the turkeys behaved, and all the rest of it.”
“What’s the use?” asked Cal between sips of coffee. “The facts are simple enough. We wanted some turkeys and I went out to get them. I knew where they were roosting and I got there before time for them to quit the roost. I shot one from the limb on which he had passed the night. The others flew, of course, and I shot one of them on the wing. That’s absolutely all there is to tell. I like to get my game when I go for it but I never could see the use of holding a coroner’s inquest over it.”
“What puzzles me,” said Tom, “is how on earth you knew just where those turkeys were roosting. Did you just guess it?”
“No, of course not. If I had, I shouldn’t have been so ready to promise you a gobbler as I was.”
“Then how did you know?”
“I saw the roost last night.”
“When, and how?”
“When you and I were out after the oysters. Do you remember that just before we came out of the woods and upon the beach, I stopped and held up the lantern and looked all around?”
“Yes, but you were looking for the oyster bed and you found it.”
“I was looking for the oyster bed, of course. But I was looking for anything else there might be to see, too. I always do that. When I was at the bow last night looking for the mouth of this creek I saw the oyster bed, and marked its locality in my mind. In the same way, when I was looking for the oyster bed with the lantern above my head, I saw the turkey-roost and carefully made mental note of its surroundings so that I might go straight to it this morning. Is there any other gentleman in the company who would like to ask me questions with a view to the satisfaction of his curiosity or the improvement of his mind?”
“I for one would like to ask you what else you saw this morning while you were out after the turkeys,” answered Tom. “Apparently you never look for one thing without finding some others of equal or superior importance. Did you do anything of that sort this morning?”
“Yes, I think so. I made two observations, in fact, and both of them seem to me to possess a certain measure of interest.”
Cal paused in his speech at this point and proceeded to eat his breakfast quite as if the others had not been waiting for him to go on with whatever it was that he had to tell.
“You’re the most provoking fellow I ever saw, Cal,” said Tom, impatiently. “When you have nothing to say that is in the least worth saying, you grind out words like a water mill, till you bury yourself and the rest of us in the chaffy nonsense. But when you have something to tell that we’re all eager to hear, you shut up like a clam at low tide. Go on, can’t you?”
“I have always heard,” replied Cal, in leisurely fashion, as if his only purpose had been to prevent the conversation from flagging, “that one of the most necessary arts of the orator is that of getting his audience into a condition of anxious waiting
