He walked into the other room where the Yale men were busily engaged in putting together their guns, filling cartridge belts with shells, and making general preparations for the day’s sport. Joblots stood watching them, a look of awed admiration on his face. “My grathiouth!” he exclaimed. “I with I could do that ath quick ath you do. It taketh me about an hour to fixth my gun wight.” Fitzgerald grinned. “I guess you haven’t had much practice with a gun, have you?” he inquired slyly. “Not much,” Joblots returned sadly. “I with I wath going with you thith morning. I’d learn a lot.” “Mac’s got to go in to the village,” Dick announced. “Anybody want him to get anything?” There was a general negative, and Dick turned to Joblots. “Perhaps you’d like to stay with us this morning and shoot?” he suggested pleasantly. His tone was quite casual, but he had a distinct object in giving the invitation. The dapper little fellow seemed suddenly to experience a change of heart. “Thank you very much,” he returned hastily, “but I think I’d better not thtay. I’d better be getting back, and it will be pleathanter having thome one to go with.” “Just as you please,” Dick said carelessly. But he turned away with a feeling of distinct satisfaction. He had found out what he wanted to know. Joblots was evidently determined not to let McCormick out of his sight. And now arose the question: Why was he following Archie? Dick’s thoughts were suddenly broken in upon by Andrew Jellison. “Perhaps, since Mr. Joblots doesn’t wish to shoot,” he said, in the pleasantest tone of voice, “you wouldn’t mind if I took his place for the morning. I am very fond of shooting, and I don’t suppose you will object to my staying here until this afternoon when I can start back in time to get the last train to the city?” So Archie was right. Jellison did want to stay, after all. “No objection whatever,” Merriwell returned. “You can take McCormick’s gun, for he won’t use it till afternoon.” “Thanks very much,” Jellison said. “You are most kind. Now my little holiday will not be spoiled after all.” Without further delay, Archie departed, striding across the field toward the woods with Joblots trotting after him, taking short, quick, mincing steps which set Fitzgerald off into a paroxysm of laughter. He at once pranced across the room in a very lifelike imitation of the dapper little fellow, but the exhibition came to an untimely end when he stumbled over one of the spreading claw feet of the mahagony table and nearly fell. “Drat the thing!” he exclaimed crossly. “What in thunder does any one want to have table legs all over the room for?” “Peace, brother!” droned a sanctimonious voice from the doorway. “Blessed is he who speaks from a pure heart, but the curser and reviler is an abomination.” Fitz gave a gasp and whirled round, while the other fellows looked up in astonishment.