“Good luck! Good Lord! it was anything but luck. It was great shooting. Well, come along. Oh, we're going to have a glorious day, aren't we, partner?” And catching hold of her arm, he gave her a friendly little shake. “Yes,” she cried, responding frankly to his mood, “we will. Let's have a good day.” “Where did you learn to shoot?” inquired Jack. “Nora and I have always carried guns in the season,” replied Kathleen, “even when we were going to school. You see, Larry hates shooting. We loved it and at times were glad to get them--the birds, I mean. We did not do it just for sport.” “Can your sister shoot as well as you?” “Hardly, I think. She pulls too quickly, you see, but when she steadies down she will shoot better than I.” “You are a wonder,” said Jack enthusiastically. “Oh, not a wonder,” said the girl. “Wait till I get the birds back to the car,” he cried. “He-l-l-o,” cried his sister as he came running. “What, four of them?” “Four,” he answered. “By jove, she's a wonder, isn't she. She really bowls me over.” “Nonsense,” said his sister in a low voice. “She's just a fine girl with a steady hand and a quick eye, and,” she added as Jack turned away from her, “a true heart.” “A true heart,” Jack muttered to himself, “and given to that confounded bully of a German. If it had been any other man--but we have got one day at least.” Resolutely he brushed away the thoughts that maddened him as he ran to Kathleen's side. Meantime, Tom and Nora had gone circling around toward the left with Sweeper ranging widely before them. “Let's beat round this bluff,” suggested Kathleen. “They may not have left the trees yet.” Together they strolled away through the stubble, the girl moving with an easy grace that spoke of balanced physical strength, and with an eagerness that indicated the keen hunter's spirit. The bluff brought no result. “That bluff promised chickens if ever a bluff did,” said Kathleen in a disappointed voice. “We'll get them further down, and then again in the stubble.” “Cheer-o,” cried Jack. “The day is fine and we are having a ripping time, at least I am.” “And I, too,” cried the girl. “I love this, the open fields,--and the sport, too.” “And good company,” said Jack boldly. “Yes, good company, of course,” she said with a quick, friendly glance. “And you ARE good company to-day.” “To-day?” “Yes. Sometimes, you know, you are rather--I don't know what to say--but queer, as if you did not like--people, or were carrying some terrible secret,” she added with a little laugh. “Secret? I am, but not for long. I am going to tell you the secret. Do you want to hear it now?” The note of desperation in his voice startled the girl. “Oh, no,” she cried hurriedly. “Where have we got to? There are no birds in this open prairie here. We must get back to the stubble.” “You are not interested in my secret, then?” said Jack. “But I am going to tell you all the same, Kathleen.”