"Come here, will you!"

Harry Gilbert turned around, for the call was evidently addressed to him, and saw, standing on the piazza of the hotel, James Congreve.

"Come here a moment. I want to speak to you," said Congreve, taking from his mouth the cigar he was smoking.

Harry was surprised. He had scarcely any acquaintance with Congreve, whom he knew chiefly as a companion of Philip Ross. Hitherto he had taken no notice of Harry--a circumstance not regretted by our hero, who had not formed a favorable opinion of the young man.

"Do you wish to speak to me?" he asked, politely.

"Yes," said James, blandly. "May I offer you a cigar?"

"Thank you, I don't smoke," returned Harry, with increased surprise at Congreve's friendly tone.

"It's a bad habit; I dare say you are right," said Congreve gladly. "I mean to break off soon. But what I wanted to ask you was: Do you know your way about the Pegan Hill Woods?"

"Yes; I've been there often."

"Then you are just the companion I want. I am thinking of exploring them with my gun. I suppose I am likely to find some birds?"

"Oh, yes; it's a good place for a sportsman."

"Suppose you come with me. We can have a pleasant afternoon."

Harry hesitated. He did not wish to be disobliging, nor did he wish to sacrifice the afternoon. As he did not specially fancy Congreve, he did not expect any pleasure from his company, though the young man seemed disposed to be cordial. This Harry explained to himself by Congreve's desire to secure his services as a guide, and, therefore, did not feel much flattered.

James Congreve noticed and understood his hesitation.

"Of course," he said, "I do not wish to take up your time without compensation. I will pay you fifty cents for your services."