"I tell you it was pure luck. I've heard of a man who shut his eyes when he fired, but he succeeded when all his companions failed. You can't judge of one by a single shot." Here Mark came up with his trophy. "I congratulate you on your success," said James, unpleasantly. "I suppose this is the first bird you ever shot?" "Oh, no!" answered Mark smilingly. "I have shot a few before now." "A fly lit on my nose just when I was pulling the trigger, or I should have brought him down." "That was lucky for me," said Mark. "Come, Tom," said James, drawing his companion away to the left. "We'd better separate, or we shall all be shooting at the same object." "Good luck to you then!" said Mark, as the two left him. "Thanks!" said Tom, but James deigned no notice of Mark's civility. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ CHAPTER II. THE HERMIT'S CABIN. MARK smiled to himself as the boys left him. "James doesn't care to associate with us working boys," he thought. "Well, I fancy he cares as much for my company as I do for his." Mark was thoroughly independent and self-reliant, and had no disposition to trouble himself because a particular boy didn't care to associate with him. He was not self-conceited, but he respected himself, and never would have been willing, like Tom Wyman, to play the part of an humble satellite to the son of a wealthy shoe manufacturer. He reached the edge of the woods, and plunged into their shaded recesses. Here and there were paths more or less worn. One of these he took. It was a considerable time before he found anything to shoot at. Finally he fired at a squirrel, but the active little animal eluded him, and made his way to some covert, whence possibly he peeped out with twinkling eyes at his enemy. Farther on he reached a small clearing, in the center of which rose an humble log dwelling, of the most primitive description. Mark regarded it with curiosity, for, though it was no new object to him, he knew that it was occupied by a man who for five years had baffled the curiosity of the neighborhood. Now and then he was seen in the village, whither he went to procure supplies of food and other necessaries. A striking figure he was, with his long flowing sandy beard, thickly flecked with gray hairs, high forehead, and long, circular cloak wrapped around his tall, spare form. On his head he wore a Spanish sombrero, and his appearance in the streets never failed to attract the curious eyes of the children. Once some rude boys followed him with jeers, but were never tempted to repeat the rudeness. With his long staff upraised, he gave chase to them, looking so terrible that they were panic-stricken, and with pale faces, scattered in all directions. While Mark was standing near the hermit's cabin, he thought he heard a smothered groan proceeding from within.