Nit duck. Then the
second barrel went off of its own accord. I'll swear, Jim, I had
nothing whatever to do with it. Anyway, nit duck. I think if I'd
had three barrels on that gun I would have nailed a duck, a duck
and a half, or two ducks, as I was just getting good. I loaded
up, and I must have been flustered a bit, as I blew one of the
decoys clear into the next block.
Then things again assumed their usual hunter's attitude, and
after sitting for another hour we paddled over to our sail-boat
and started down the lake for the house. It was blowing pretty
hard, and the sky was blacker than Pittsburg. The skipper said
something about a squall, but it didn't hit us until we were
about two hundred yards from the dock. Then we got it, and got
it good. It was buttercups and daisies. Thunder, lightning, rain,
and all the side dishes. I'd have given eight dollars to have
seen a cable car coming along about that time. The skipper yelled
to me to ease off the larboard stay. Now, I might know something
about mince pie, but a larboard stay is not my long and hasty.
Then some one pushed me aside, and succeeded in putting things
in such excellent shape that we ran plumb through the dock. It
was great!
That night we sat around, and Sarpo and his sons told some funny
stories. My, but they were to the saddings! I told one of my best,
and nobody filtered but Teddy.
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