Well done, lass!--there she goes again! With a furious effort she pushes ahead, and seizes the flying beast by the hock--this time with some luck, for down he goes in a cloud of dust and broken sticks, and both the dogs are on him at once. Now he is up again and running, but feebly. And see, what is the matter with the young dog? He runs on, but keeps turning, snapping fiercely at his side, and his footsteps are marked with blood. Poor lad! he has got a bad wound in that last tumble,--the kangaroo has ripped up his flank with a kick from his hind foot. But now the chase is over,--the hunted beast has turned, and is at bay against a tree, Fly standing before him, waiting for assistance, snarling fiercely. They pulled up. Jim took out a pistol and presented it to Halbert. "Thank you," said he. "Hair trigger?" "Yes." He balanced it for a second, and in another the kangaroo was lying quivering on the ground, shot through the heart. "Well done!" said Jim. "Now, I must look to this dog." All his flank along the ribs was laid open, and Jim, producing a needle and thread, proceeded to sew it up. "Will you let me do that for you?" said Halbert. "I wish you would. I'm fond of the poor thing, and my hand shakes. You've seen the surgeons at work, I expect." "Yes, indeed." And he tenderly and carefully stitched up the dog's side, while Jim held him. "What do we do with the game?" said he. "Oh, Jerry will be along on our tracks presently," said Jim. "He brings me the tail, and does what he likes with the rest. I wonder where Sam and Alice are?" "Oh, they are right enough," said Halbert, laughing. "I dare say they are not very anxious about the kangaroo, or anything else. That's 'a case,' I suppose?" "Well, I hope it is," said Jim; "but you see I don't know. Girls are so odd." "Perhaps he has never asked her." "No; I don't think he has. I wish he would. You are not married, are you?" "My God--no!" said Halbert, "nor ever shall be." "Never?"