The grouse turned as they crossed the hollow." A short distance off there was a fold in the moor, and while Osborn wondered whether he would walk to the top a man came over the brow, leading two horses that hauled a clumsy sledge.

Another team followed and presently four advanced across the heath.
"Now you know what spoiled the drive," Thorn remarked with some dryness.
"You can't expect a good shoot on the day your tenants move their peat." Osborn, who was very angry, picked up the glasses.

"The first two are not my tenants.

They're the Askews, and the boundary of their sheepwalk runs on this side of the green road." "Then I suppose there's nothing to be said!" In the meantime, Osborn's friends had left the other butts and come up, with Jardine in front.

He was a fat, red-faced man, and as he got nearer remarked to his companions: "I call it wretched bad management! Somebody ought to have turned the fellows off the moor." Osborn heard and glanced at Thorn as he left the butt.