e boy off hotfoot. Although his power for a short exertion
was great, Steve was in no kind of training, having allowed himself to
fatten up, and being an inordinate user of tobacco. Per contra, the
deer felt freshened and invigorated by exertion. That's the deuce of
it with an animal--_he_ doesn't tire.

I knew that Steve was in plenty trouble, or he wouldn't have sent for
help. The boy's distress denied the joke I suspected; I grabbed a rope
and made for the grove, the boy trailing me. I should have gotten a
gun, but I didn't think of it.

Those were the days when I could run; when it was exhilaration to sail
over the prairie. The importance of my position as rescuer--which
anyone who has been a boy will understand--lent springs to my feet.

It was well for Steve that mine were speedy legs. When I got there his
face was grey and mottled, like an old man's, and his mouth had a weak
droop, very unlike devil-may-care Steve. The two had pawed up the
ground for rods around in the fight; the deer's horns, beneath where
the man gripped them, were wet with the blood of his torn palms.
Steve's knees, arms, and head were trembling as if in an ague fit. He
was all in--physically; but the inner man arose strong above defeat.
"Here's--your--deer--Kid!" he gasped. "I--kept--him--for you!"

[Illustration: "'Here's--your--deer--Kid,' he gasped"]

I yelled to him to hold hard for one second, took a running jump, and
landed on Mr. Buck's flank with both feet. It was something of a
shock. Over went deer, man, and boy. I was on my pins in a jiffy,
snapped the noose over the deer's hind legs, tangled him up anyhow in
the rest of the riata, and snubbed him to the nearest tree. Then Steve
got up and walked away to where he could be ill with comfort. And he
was good and sick.

When he felt better, he arose and opened his knife, swearing that he
would slit that critter's throat from ear to ear; but Steve, junior,
plead so hard for the life of his pet that Big Steve relented, and Mr.
Billy Buck was saved for further mischief.

That afternoon two of us rode out and roped him, "spreading" him
between us as we dragged him home. He fought every step of the way.
My companion, a hot-headed Montana boy, was for killing him a
half-dozen times. However, feeling that the deer had vindicated me, I
had a pride in him, and kept him from a timely end. We turned him
loose in a corral with a blooded bull-calf, some milch cows,
work-st