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"Yah!" came back; and as the keeper dropped his gun into the hollow of his arm with a grim smile on his face, there was a loud thwack and a startled, "Oh!" for the tall gentleman had stood still, Magglin had reached him, and a stick fell heavily across the poacher's shoulders. "You scoundrel!" he roared, making a snatch at Magglin's collar, but the man was too slippery.
Oh, I do wish we had bought Magglin's gun. It is such a handy one. You see we could keep it up in the loft, and take it to pieces and bring it out without any one knowing, and shoot our own birds to stuff." "Mustn't shoot partridges. They're game," I said. "Oh, I don't know," he replied. "We shouldn't want them to eat, only to stuff, and Hallo, look there!
I stuff 'em with tow; I'll show you how. Old Hopley says Magglin's a rank poacher, and first time he catches him on their grounds he'll pull him up before his master, you know. General's a magistrate. But he won't catch him. Magg's too artful. I say, got any money?" "Yes, I have some," I said. "That's right. Don't you spend it. You save up same as I am. Magg's got a gun I want to buy of him.
Mercer was terribly exercised in mind about Magglin's gun, and his having to give that up for the sake of his revenge, but a letter from home containing five shillings revived his hopes, and it was put aside as a nest-egg, so that the amount might be raised at last, though what the amount was we had no idea.
"That's what you used to say about Magglin's take-to-pieces gun, but you never got it, and you've been happy enough without." "Oh, have I?" said Mercer. "You don't know. I used to long for that gun."
Did you two see?" "Yes, we saw," said Mercer. "I say, he did make you cry chy-ike." "He'd better touch me again." "He will," I said, "if you go hanging about after Polly Hopley." "What, did he tell you that?" "No," I said, "we knew well enough. Bob Hopley didn't say a word. Only called it poaching." Magglin's manner changed directly, and in a snivelling, whining way he began,
The next minute it had received a chop on the back of the neck, ceased struggling, been transferred to Magglin's pocket, and the net was spread over the hole again. "That's a bad farret, ain't it, Master Mercer?" said Magglin, showing his teeth. "You'd best sell un back to me; I should be glad on it for five shillings." "Hush! I thought I heard one, Magg," whispered Mercer, ignoring the remark.
"A pound!" said Mercer in dismay. Then a happy thought struck him. "We shall have to give up buying Magglin's gun for the present," he whispered to me. Then aloud "All right Lom. If we bring you the money, will you buy the gloves?" "Yes, my lads, I will; and good ones." "And you will teach us?"
Mercer stopped short, for we heard Polly Hopley's voice speaking loudly, evidently at the front of the cottage. "I don't want it, and I won't have it. Give it to some one else." "No, I shan't," said a harsh voice, which we knew at once as Magglin's. "I bought it o' porpos for you, and you've got to wear it." "Then I shan't, and if you come talking to me again like that, I shall tell father."
Don't talk loud, only whisper, and don't move about. I don't believe that fishes can hear all the same. There," he added, as he baited my hook, "that's old Magglin's way. Let's see, are you deep enough. Yes, that will do. Throw in."
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