They had been in the woods but a short time, and had not yet shot anything, though they had fired several charges, when a dispute arose between them about the gun.  Jerry claimed a right to it half the time, on the ground that he had borrowed it.  Oscar was willing that he should use the gun occasionally, but he resisted his claim to it half the time.  He contended that the gun was loaned to him, and besides, he had agreed to pay the owner for all the ammunition they used.  The dispute waxed warmer and warmer.  Oscar was obstinate, and Jerry grew sulky.  It was the first serious difficulty that had arisen between them.  Neither of them, as yet, knew the other’s temper, but now they were in a fair way of finding each other out.  It was the clashing of two strong wills.  Oscar soon saw that their sport was at an end for that day, and throwing down the gun and powder flask upon the grass, he said, in an angry tone: 

“There, take the old thing, and do what you please with it; and when you carry it back, see that you pay for the powder, for I won’t.”

So saying, he turned upon his heel and walked off.  He had not gone far when Jerry, who had picked up the gun, called out: 

“Here! you ’ve broken the trigger, throwing it down so.  You may carry it back yourself now, I won’t.”

“I shan’t carry it back,” replied Oscar; “you say he lent it to you, and you may take care of it now.”

Oscar went back to his uncle’s, leaving Jerry and the gun to keep each other company.  Not feeling in a very pleasant mood, Oscar did not go into the house, but loitered around the barn, avoiding the family as much as he could.  Pretty soon he saw Clinton driving up, and he stepped inside of the barn, as he did not care about speaking with him.  Clinton stopped however, when opposite to the barn, and called to him.

“What would you give for a letter from home?” said Clinton, when Oscar made his appearance.

“I don’t know—­why, have you got one for me?” inquired Oscar, with remarkable coolness.

“That’s for you, I guess,” said Clinton, handing him a letter.  “I ’ve been over to the post-office, and as I happened to see a letter directed to you, I thought I would take it along with me.”

“That’s right, I’m glad you did,” said Oscar, taking the letter.  “Much obliged to you for your trouble,” he added, as Clinton drove off.

Oscar now went into the barn, and, seating himself upon a stool, opened and read his letter.  It was from his mother.  She acknowledged the receipt of his letter, and expressed much gratification at hearing that he was well and enjoying himself.  His father, she wrote, thought he had better return home, and resume his place at school, from which he had been absent nearly three months.  The term would close in about a month, and he wanted Oscar to be prepared to enter the High School at that time.  Then followed various little messages from the children, directions about his journey home, &c.  In closing, she requested him to return that week, that he might be ready to go to school the following Monday.