a clatter of falling boxes and the wild screams of fowls 

 in the yard. Only the night before the thieves had 

 beaten him again ; but this time he was determined to be 

 even with them. Jumping out of bed he opened 

 the little window looking out on to the fowl-house, 

 and, with his gun resting on the sill, waited for the 

 thief. He waited long and patiently ; and by-and-by 

 the screaming of the fowls subsided enough for him 

 to hear the gurgling and scratching about in the 

 fowl-house, and he settled down to a still longer 

 watch ; evidently the kaffir dog was enjoying his stolen 

 meal in there. 



" Go on ! Finish it ! " Tom muttered grimly ; 

 " I'll have you this time if I wait till morning ! " 



So he stood at the window waiting and watching, 

 until every sound had died away outside. He listened 

 intently : there was not a stir ; there was nothing to 

 be seen in the moonlit yard; nothing to be heard; 

 not even a breath of air to rustle the leaves in the big 

 fig-tree. 



Then, in the same dead stillness the dim form of a 

 dog appeared in the doorway, stepped softly out of 

 the fowl-house, and stood in the deep shadow of the 

 little porch. Tom lifted the gun slowly and took 

 careful aim. When the smoke cleared away, the 

 figure of the dog lay still, stretched out on the ground 

 where it had stood ; and Tom went back to bed, 



satisfied. 



***** 



The morning sun slanting across the yard shone in 

 Tom's eyes as he pushed the reed gate open and made 

 465 2 G 



