"Pity your gentleman ain't drawed the meadows an' Sachem Hill line.

Will you choose your dog, Sir ?" "You have your dog, you know," observed Sylvia demurely.

And Siward, glancing among the impatient setters, saw one white, heavily feathered dog, straining at his leash, and wagging frantically, brown eyes fixed on him.
The next moment Sagamore was free, devouring his master with caresses, the girl looking on in smiling silence; and presently, side by side, the man, the girl, and the dog were strolling off to the starting line where already people were gathering in groups, selecting dogs, fowling-pieces, comparing numbers, and discussing the merits of their respective lines of advance.
Ferrall, busily energetic, and in high spirits, greeted them gaily, pointing out the red disc bearing their number, seven, where it stood out distinctly above the distant scrub of the foreland.
"You two are certainly up against it!" he said, grinning.

"There's only one rougher line, and you're in for thorns and water and a scramble across the back-bone of the divide!" "Is it any good ?" asked Siward.
"Good--if you've got the legs and Sylvia doesn't play baby--" "I ?" she said indignantly.

"Kemp, you annoy me.