I caught him, and said:  “Do you see that chair?  Well, we all have a busy day before us.  You can help a good deal, and play a little, but you can’t hinder and pester according to your own sweet will one bit.  You must either obey orders or else be put under arrest and tied in the chair.”

To go into the chair to-day would be torture indeed, and the little fellow was sobered at once.

The others soon joined us, eager to see everything by the broad light of day, and to enter upon the task of getting settled.  We had scarcely come together before John junior appeared with the chief features of our breakfast.  The children scanned this probable playmate very curiously, and some of us could hardly repress a smile at his appearance.  He was even more sandy than his father.  Indeed his hair and eyebrows were nearly white, but out of his red and almost full-moon face his mother’s black eyes twinkled shrewdly.  They now expressed only good-will and bashfulness.  Every one of us shook hands with him so cordially that his boy’s heart was evidently won.

Merton, to break the ice more fully, offered to show him his gun, which he had kept within reach ever since we left the boat.  It made him feel more like a pioneer, no doubt.  As he took it from its stout cloth cover I saw John junior’s eyes sparkle.  Evidently a deep chord was touched.  He said, excitedly:  “To-day’s your time to try it.  A rabbit can’t stir without leaving his tracks, and the snow is so deep and soft that he can’t get away.  There’s rabbits on your own place.”

“O papa,” cried my boy, fairly trembling with eagerness, “can’t I go?”

“I need you very much this morning.”

“But, papa, others will be out before me, and I may lose my chance;” and he was half ready to cry.

“Yes,” I said; “there is a risk of that.  Well, you shall decide in this case,” I added, after a moment, seeing a chance to do a little character-building.  “It is rarely best to put pleasure before business or prudence.  If you go out into the snow with those boots, you will spoil them, and very probably take a severe cold.  Yet you may go if you will.  If you help me we can be back by ten o’clock, and I will get you a pair of rubber boots as we return.”

“Will there be any chance after ten o’clock?” he asked, quickly.

“Well,” said John junior, in his matter-of-fact way, “that depends.  As your pa says, there’s a risk.”

The temptation was too strong for the moment.  “O dear!” exclaimed Merton, “I may never have so good a chance again.  The snow will soon melt, and there won’t be any more till next winter.  I’ll tie my trousers down about my boots, and I’ll help all the rest of the day after I get back.”

“Very well,” I said quietly:  and he began eating his breakfast—­the abundant remains of our last night’s lunch—­very rapidly, while John junior started off to get his gun.

I saw that Merton was ill at ease, but I made a sign to his mother not to interfere.  More and more slowly he finished his breakfast, then took his gun and went to the room that would be his, to load and prepare.  At last he came down and went out by another door, evidently not wishing to encounter me.  John junior met him, and the boys were starting, when John senior drove into the yard and shouted, “John junior, step here a moment.”