270 Tbe Sporting Dog 



from the destination the leader of the expedition 

 stopped at a stubble field. 



" This is cousin George's farm," he said. 

 " We'll send the dogs around that field. They 

 are reliable enough, but we have a reputation 

 with the judge for good behavior, and it won't 

 hurt to take off the edge a Httle. Get out, Bob." 

 And a minute later, " Get out, Hicks." 



With a wave of the hand to each, " Bob, over ; 

 Hicks, over." 



One after the other they scrambled over the 

 rail fence. Then a sharp, " Ho ! " Both stopped. 

 " Bob ! " and a wave of the hand to the right. 

 " Hicks ! " a wave to the left. Off they dashed, 

 skirting the field in opposite directions. Bob 

 stopped at a bush near a pine thicket which was 

 one boundary of the field. The doctor picked 

 up his gun. 



" No, it's only a rabbit. See how he moves his 

 tail and peers at the bush. He'll go on." 



And Bob left the despised cottontail to be 

 trapped by the country boys or chased by the 

 darkies' hounds. 



But the thicket was good cover for other game, 

 and Bob pointed again, this time stiffly extended, 

 with eyes strained and one foot raised. 



Again the sharp order. Hicks stopped short 

 and looked around inquiringly. A wave of the 

 hand brought him across the field. Another call. 



