"Did Mrs. Archibald tell you," said she, "that we have invited Mr. Clyde and Mr. Raybold to supper to-night?" The guide stopped and smiled. "She told me," said he, "but I don't know that it was altogether necessary." "I suppose you mean," said Margery, "that they are here so much; but I don't wonder; they must do awfully poor cooking for themselves. I don't suppose they will bring anything back that is good to eat." "Not at this time of year," said he, "but I shall be satisfied if they bring themselves home." "What do you mean by that?" asked Margery, quickly. "Well," said Matlack, "I don't doubt the bicycle fellow will always come back all right, but I'm afeard about the other one. That bicycle chap don't know no more about a gun than he does about makin' bread, and I wouldn't go out huntin' with him for a hundred dollars. He's just as likely to take a crack at his pardner's head as at anything else that's movin' in the woods." "That is dreadful!" exclaimed Margery. "Yes, it is," returned the guide; "and if I had charge of their camp he wouldn't go out with a gun again. But it will be all right in a day or two. Peter will settle that." "Mr. Sadler, do you mean?" asked Margery. "What's he got to do with it?" "He's got everything to do with it," said Matlack. "He's got everything to do with everything in this part of the country. He's got his laws, and he sees to it that people stand by them. One of his rules is that people who don't know how to use guns sha'n't shoot in his camps." "But how can he know about the people out here in the woods?" asked Margery. "I tell you, miss," said Matlack, speaking slowly and decisively, "Peter Sadler's ways of knowing things is like gas--the kind you burn, I mean. I was a-visitin' once in a city house, and slept in a room on the top floor, and there was a leak in the pipe in the cellar, and that gas just went over the whole house, into every room and closet, and even under the beds, and I've often thought that that was just like Peter's way of doin' things and knowin' things. You take my word for it, that bicycle-man won't go out huntin' many more days, even if he don't shoot his pardner fust." "He won't go to-morrow," thought Margery; and then she said to Matlack: "I think we ought to know Mr. Sadler's rules. Has he any more of them?" "Oh, they ain't very many," said Matlack. "But there's one I think of now, and that is that no woman shall go out in a boat by herself on this lake." "That is simply horrid!" exclaimed Margery. "Women can row as well as men." "I don't say they can't," said Matlack. "I'm only tellin' you what Peter's rules are, and that's one of them." Margery made no reply, but walked away, her head thrown back a little more than was usual with her. "I've got to keep my eye on her," said Matlack to himself, as he went to the cabin; "she's never been broke to no harness." * * * * *