SOLD ! ' 207 



" Don't pull till I tell 'ee, and then take 'em as they 

 rise," came the almost inaudible and quite unnecessary 

 order from Tom. 



Hardly were the words spoken or, rather, whispered 

 when, to my utter surprise and unspeakable disgust, 

 a bright flash spurted out from a small muddy gully 

 which ran into the creek at a point about 150 yards above 

 us. The flash was answered by the deep report of a 

 stanchion-gun, which awakened the slumbering echoes 

 of the marshes and went booming across the vast ex- 

 panse of tide and mud and salting. With a great to-do 

 the fowl rose in a cloud and headed towards the open 

 estuary, but well out of range of our heavy gun even. A 

 march had been stolen upon us. For several moments, 

 and while the unknown gunner was busy with his 

 " cripple-stopper," Tundridge and I stared blankly and 

 sadly at each other. 



" Sold or call me a dago ! And by a blazin' furriner, 

 too ! " ejaculated Tundridge, as he shipped the sculls 

 and then pulled slowly and silently down creek. 



