In such a cover as this the men were now hunting for Job; and at the end of fifteen minutes, in which they had worked back and forth and to and fro without discovering the dog, Hayes and the doctor were ready to give up. “Call him in,” Hayes told Chet. “Maybe we’ll see the bird get up. We can’t find him and we’re wasting time.” Chet hesitated, then he said: “I’ll shoot. Maybe that’ll scare up the bird.” On the last word his gun roared and through its very echoes each of the three men heard the tinkle of a bell, and Chet, who was nearest, cried: “There he is! Careful! The bird’s moving.” The dog was in the very center of the cover they had traversed--in a little depression where he chanced to be well hidden. They had passed within twenty feet of him, yet had he held his point. Hayes was the first to do homage. “By gad,” he cried, “that is some dog, McAusland!” “You be ready to shoot,” Chet retorted. “I’ll walk up the bird.” They said they were ready; he moved in to one side of Job and the woodcock got up on whistling wings. Hayes’ first shot knocked him down. Job found another bird a little farther on and Chet killed it before it topped the alders. Then they approached the spot where he had marked down that first woodcock, the one which had been flushed by the too-rangy dogs. He called Job, pointed, said briefly: “Find dead bird, Job.” The dog went in, began to work. When the other men came up Chet said: “I think I hurt that first bird. He dropped in here. Job will find him.” “Let’s send the other dogs in, too,” Hayes suggested. “Mine hasn’t learned retrieving yet.” Chet nodded and the other two dogs plunged into the cover to one side of Job and began to circle, loping noisily. Job looked toward them with an air of almost human disgust at such incompetency, then went on with his business of finding the bird. The men, watching, saw then a curious thing: they saw old Job freeze in a point and as he did so the other dogs charged toward him. One, Gunther’s, caught the scent ten feet away and froze. The other hesitated, then came on--and Job growled, a warning deadly growl. The other dog stopped still. Chet exclaimed: “Now ain’t that comical? Hear old Job tell him to freeze?” Hayes nodded and the three stood for a moment, watching the motionless dogs, silent. Then the young dog stirred again and Job moved forward two paces and flattened his head so low it almost touched the ground and--growled again. Chet laughed. “All right, Job,” he called. “Dead bird! Fetch it in!” Job did not move, and Hayes said: “Maybe it’s not dead. “I’ll walk in,” Chet told him. “I won’t shoot. You do the shooting.”