and the man with the gun cawed like a young 
crow that had been caught and: was screaming 
for help. Why did not the hawk come to the 
decoy? It was too much for the hawk-man. 
“T never saw a bird like that in my life,” said 
ne.) iL is a new kind of hawk to me.”’ 
Black Warrior passed beyond the range of 
gunshot and, like a flash of lghtning, shot 
downward, catching a fine tumbler pigeon flying 
over the barn. Then with his prey he turned 
and was soon out of sight over the woods to the 
eastward. 
Mr. Wing was in despair. All his life when 
he had wanted anything very much he usually 
got it; for the golden key he possessed would 
unlock many doors.. But here was a case where 
it seemed his money could not help him. He 
went over to New York to talk the matter over 
with some of his chums. One of them had just 
brought out his yacht for the season, so half a 
dozen friends went aboard for a little trip up 
the river. 
They ran up the Hudson to Yonkers and then 
turned back. When on the return trip they were 
169 
