WALKING AFTER LEW CHAPIN 
show very much muscular development, 
but he looked compact. He was if any- 
thing a bit drawn as to flesh; he looked 
hard and firm, and he moved very easily as 
he walked. He walked from the hips, and 
had a free, smooth stride. Chapin walked 
all over; with his feet, hands, thighs, waist, 
back, arms and chest. He fairly plunged 
and wallowed over the country, so great 
was his strength, so vigorous his overplus of 
vitality. But after him closely, hanging to 
his flank, never ahead of him, and never 
more than a foot behind him, glided 
Winters. Lew first struck across _ forty 
acres of stiff plowed ground. 
“We make somethin’ by cuttin’ across,” 
he explained apologetically. His companion 
smiled approvingly. 
A sixty-acre cornfield was the next strip, 
after crossing a road. Then a narrow strip 
of pasture, and then more corn. Next 
plowed ground, and after that a creek 
bottom and some rough going in scrubby 
timber. Then they topped a hill and dove 
into the corn again. Emerging, they ran 
into plowed ground again, wet, heavy and 
slippery. A short respite in a bare pasture, 
and again they went into the stiff going. 
It was that way the entire way to Ford’s. 
And the “trifle over twelve miles’? was 
covered in about three hours. Arriving at 
Ford’s they got the dog and started for the 
oat stubbles. Here they ran into chickens 
at once and Winters won Lew Chapin’s 
applause by quickly making two doubles 
and three singles without a miss. Lew had 
gathered in six chickens himself, with one 
allowable miss, and after they gathered all 
their birds, he said, ‘‘ Now it ain’t no use to 
go after these birds in the corn here, for at 
Abernathy’s farm across the ridge we can 
find a bunch in his wheat stubbles if we 
walk lively.” 
Winters agreed, and away they went for 
Abernathy’s. It was seven miles to this 
farm, and Lew put in his best licks trying 
to “‘bush” Winters. He almost ran the 
entire distance. Yet serene and almost un- 
perspiringly the obliging Winters kept right 
at his elbow, and seemingly without effort. 
They got to the wheat stubbles a little late, 
as the birds had just gone into the corn. 
The dog flushed them at the edge, and Lew 
got a double, Winters picking off an old 
£9 
rooster with a long right-quartering shot, 
which opened Lew’s eyes to the fact that his 
companion was a good shot, and no mis- 
take. 
The corn into which these chickens had 
gone was twelve feet high, close as a cane- 
brake, tangled and twisted with weeds and 
morning-glory vines. 
“We'll bulge right through her,” de- 
clared Lew, “‘double and come back to 
these stubbles, and then hike out for my 
brother-in-law’s place five mile to the 
northwest.”’ 
The two men plunged into this jungle of 
corn, where the sun now beat down on 
depths as close and hot as a bake-oven. 
They thrashed through it, getting a chicken 
apiece, and came back without getting any, 
missing a shot apiece close to the center 
of the field. Coming out on the stubble 
again, they passed Ford’s, got a drink 
at the well, left their birds for Ford to take 
on to Chapin’s, as he was going to town and 
past Lew’s home place, and started for 
Lew’s brother-in-law’s farm. They got 
there about noon, and by that time the dog 
lay down and quit. 
The brother-in-law was away from home, 
but one of Lew’s nephews told of a big 
covey that had gone into the corn at ten 
o’clock. The hunters wormed their way 
into the corn, which was a duplicate field of 
the one they had last left, and began to 
chase the birds up without a dog. 
‘No doubles here,’ remarked Winters. 
Lew nodded. He was looking at Winters 
keenly. What manner of man was this. 
He had not complained of the heat, of the 
pace nor of the ground. And what was 
more, he was looking positively fresh. Lew 
felt troubled. Well, it was only twelve 
o’clock. And between that and sundown 
was a good seven hours, and then there was 
the twelve or fifteen miles to home. He’d 
make him “‘holler”’ all in good time. 
But now a change took place. Winters 
forged ahead, and to save his life Lew 
could not regain the lead. No man had 
ever “set him back” before, and the burly 
farmer made desperate efforts to get to the 
head of the procession again. But fiercely 
as he thrashed through the corn Winters 
always was a few feet in advance. Coming 
out of this strip of corn with nine chickens 
