Kathleen said: "You really ought to ask some men up here to shoot, Scott. I don't wish to be chased about by a boar." "They never bother people," he protested. "What are you going to do with that rifle, Geraldine?" "My nerve has gone," she confessed, laughing; "I prefer to have it with me when I take walks. It's really safer," she added seriously to Kathleen. "Miller says that a buck deer can be ugly, too." "Oh, Lord!" said her brother, laughing; "it's only because you're the prettiest thing ever, in that hunting dress! Don't tell me; and kindly be careful where you point that rifle." "As if I needed instructions!" retorted his sister. "I wish I could see a boar--a big one with a particularly frightful temper and tusks to match." "I'll bet you that you can't kill a boar," he said in good-humoured disdain. "I don't see any to kill." "Well, I bet you can't find one. And if you do, I bet you don't kill him." "How long," asked Geraldine dangerously, "does that bet hold good?" "All winter, if you like. It's the prettiest single jewel you can pick out against a new saddle-horse. I need a gay one; I'm getting out of condition. And all our horses are as interesting as chevaux de bois when the mechanism is freshly oiled and the organ plays the 'Ride of the Valkyries.'" "I've half a mind to take that wager," said Geraldine, very pink and bright-eyed. "I think I will take it if----" "Please don't, dear," said Kathleen anxiously. "The keepers say that a wounded boar is perfectly horrid sometimes." "Dangerous?" Her eyes glimmered brighter still. "Certainly, a wounded boar is dangerous. I heard Miller say----" "Bosh!" said Scott. "They run away from you every time. Besides, Geraldine isn't going to have enough sporting blood in her to take that bet and make good." Something in the quick flush and tilt of her head reminded Scott of the old days when their differences were settled with eight-ounce gloves. The same feeling possessed his sister, thrilled her like a sudden, unexpected glimpse of a happiness which apparently had long been ended for ever. "Oh, Scott," she exclaimed, still thrilling, "it _is_ like old times to hear you try to bully me. It's so long since I've had enough spirit to defy you. But I do now!--oh, yes, I do! Why, I believe that if we had the gloves here, I'd make you fight me or take back what you said about my not having any sporting spirit!" He laughed: "I was thinking of that, too. You're a good sport, Sis. Don't bother to take that wager----" "I _do_ take it!" she cried; "it's like old times and I love it. Now, Scott, I'll show you a boar before we go to town or I'll buy you a horse. No backing out; what's said can't be unsaid, remember: "King, king, double king, Can't take back a given thing! Queen, queen, queen of queens, What she promises she means!" That was a very solemn incantation in nursery days; she laughed a little in tender tribute to the past.