esides the trophies of hide and
horns, there was meat enough there to do him all winter--tough, perhaps,
but sweet, seeing that it had been fatted on his choicest crops. He
looked at the animal's heaving sides and realized what a magnificent run
he must have made. Then as he stepped forward with his knife he wondered
what could have induced the beast to flee to such a refuge. The buck was
gazing up at him with wide eyes, reassured by the man's quiet. There was
no terror in that gaze, but only a sort of anxious question; and he
never flinched, though the laboured breath came quicker through his
nostrils as the man approached his head.
As Ramsay met that anxious, questioning look, the eager triumph in his
own eyes died away, and his grim mouth softened to a half-abashed,
half-quizzical smile. The bright blade in his hand slipped furtively
into his belt, as if he didn't want the buck to notice it. Then,
muttering approvingly, "Ye've fooled 'em, ain't ye!" he picked up a
little shallow tub that stood in a corner of the stall and started out
to the well to get the beast a drink.
As he closed the stable door behind him two perspiring men with guns
entered the yard from the corn-field, and were eagerly greeted by the
dogs. "Good day," said one, politely. "We're after a big buck which our
dogs here have run down for us. He must have hidden in your barn."
Ramsay eyed the visitors with ill disguised antagonism and fingered his
scraggy chin before he answered.
"Ya-as," he drawled. "I've got a mighty fine buck in there--the old
Ringwaak buck himself, as everybody's heard tell of. But, beggin' your
pardon, friends, I reckon he's goin' to stay in there for the present."
The strangers studied the old man's strong face for a moment or two in
silence, noted the latent fire in the depths of his eyes, and realized
that there was nothing to be done. Whistling the dogs to heel, they
strode off, angry and disgusted. But before they had gone far the one
who had spoken turned around.
"I'll give you fifty dollars for those horns," he said abruptly.
"Ef they're wuth fifty dollars they're good enough for me to keep,"
drawled Ramsay, never moving from where he stood. And with resentful
eyes he watched them out of sight before he went to the well.
During the next four days half the men and boys in the settlement, with
not a few of the women, visited Ramsay's barn to view the famous
captive. The buck, well fed and watered, had recove
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