Suddenly overcome by a speechless shyness, he paused on the threshold to stare with round, wondering eyes at the two men.
"Well, sonny, what do you want ?" asked Mr.Crenshaw indulgently.
The boy opened his mouth, but his courage failed him, and with his courage went the words he would have spoken.
"Who is this ?" asked Bladen.
"I'll tell, you presently," said Crenshaw.

"Come, speak up, sonny, what do you want ?" "Please, sir, I want this here old spo'tin' rifle," said: the child.
"Please, sir, I want to keep it," he added.
"Well, you run along on out of here with your old spo'tin' rifle!" said Crenshaw good-naturedly.
"Please, sir, am I to keep it ?" "Yes, I reckon you may keep it--least I've no objection." Crenshaw glanced at Bladen.
"Oh, by all means," said the latter.

Spasms of delight shook the small figure, and with a murmur that was meant for thanks he backed from the room, closing the door.

Bladen glanced inquiringly at Crenshaw.
"You want to know about him, sir?
Well, that's Hannibal Wayne Hazard." "Hannibal Wayne Hazard ?" repeated Bladen.
"Yes, sir; the general was the authority on that point, but who Hannibal Wayne Hazard is and how he happens to be at the Barony is another mystery--just wait a minute, sir--" and quitting his chair Mr.
Crenshaw hurried from the room to return almost immediately with a tall countryman.

"Mr.Bladen, this is Bob Yancy.