"Of course, if the tramp still persisted, I would be justified in
using shot. Last evening I had a visit from one. He was coming
over the wall. My shot gun was efficacious; you should have seen
him run!"
It was useless to argue with so positive a mind, and I dropped the
subject. After breakfast I strolled over the downs, my friend
promising to join me as soon as he arranged some household
business.
It was a lovely, peaceful morning, not unlike the day when I first
met my friend, the Tramp. The hush of a great benediction lay on
land and sea. A few white sails twinkled afar, but sleepily; one
or two large ships were creeping in lazily, like my friend, the
Tramp. A voice behind me startled me.
My host had rejoined me. His face, however, looked a little
troubled.
"I just now learned something of importance," he began. "It
appears that with all my precautions that Tramp has visited my
kitchen, and the servants have entertained him. Yesterday morning,
it appears, while I was absent, he had the audacity to borrow my
gun to go duck-shooting.
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