File:Outing (1885) (14589872629).jpg

Identifier: outing58newy (find matches)
Title: Outing
Year: 1885 (1880s)
Authors:
Subjects: Leisure Sports Travel
Publisher: (New York : Outing Pub. Co.)
Contributing Library: Tisch Library
Digitizing Sponsor: Boston Library Consortium Member Libraries

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s the Saint. Then a vision of the Saint careeringacross Scotland on his own seemed tostrike both men together. Benchell puthis hand over his mouth and went away,and Brown put his hand over his mouthand his handkerchief in it and went theother way. There was no attempt made, to recap-ture the Saint. He was entered in thebooks of the menagerie as Sold, norwas anyone living enlightened further onthe matter either then or thereafter. Now Hardways Glenskye marchedwith Bartlets Glenask moor, and thetwo were rivals for the record game bagfor all Northern Scotland, and Smythe,Hardways head keeper, had that season,by means which are said to have beencrooked, enticed the bulk of Bartletsbirds over the border with the resultthat Glenskye beat its own record bagand Glenask was nowhere. NaturallyMacgregor, who was Bartlets headkeeper, had sworn vengeance. These things happened before thelooming of Benchell and his menagerieupon the horizon. Now, where Hard-way makes his point is this: his man, 287
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AT THE END OF A TEN-FOOT CLEFT OF ROCK TWO FEET ABOVE A PERFECTLYINSANE WATERFALL WITH A FIFTY-FOOT DROP. THE SAINT 289 Smythe, had seen MacGregor and Brownin deep conversation in the private, orback, parlor of an obscure local pubshortly before closing time, and Mac-Gregor was plying Brown with manyand wonderful drinks—drinks quite be-yond Macs power to pay for. Thatwas at 10.30 p.m., and at 4 p.m., or asnear as may be, on the following even-ing the Saint escaped. So far all seems clear. What fol-lowed was not so clear, for obvious rea-sons. Smythe certainly knows spots anddashes of it, as it were. The whole realstory, however, is locked up in the secrethistory of the wild, whence, because ofone or two services rendered to wildfolk, I got it—it came to me, you under-stand. The merlin, smallest of falcons,he told me some of it that time I warnedhim of danger; the father of cunning,the old gray fox, added more when Ifreed him one day from a trap, and wiseone, the long-eared owl, fi

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