s eyes in the right quarter when suddenly a
fine big buck sprang to its feet, and stared at them a second or two,
before starting to spring away. They had been heading up into the wind
all the time, which was a part of Thad's principle as a true still
hunter; and the deer had not known of their presence until the greenhorn
happened to step on a small branch, which snapped under his weight.

Possibly Step Hen never really knew just how he did it. Indeed, he
afterwards confessed to himself that his ready little rifle just seemed
to swing upward to his shoulder by some instinct, which was probably the
exact truth; for hunters seldom have time to do any thinking.

He saw that splendid deer standing there before him. Now, Step Hen had
often fired a target rifle at just such a picture of a deer as this in
the shooting gallery in Cranford. And when he took a hasty aim just
behind the shoulder of the startled buck, he was really following out
his usual custom of covering the bull's-eye on the artificial deer, so
familiar to his boyish eyes.

Bang! went the rifle, as he pressed the trigger.

Thad had his double-barreled gun in readiness, and could have
supplemented the shot of Step Hen by pouring in a broadside of small
bullets that must have dropped the animal in his tracks. But he
refrained, for his instinct seemed to tell him that the missile from
Step Hen's little rifle had struck home, as the buck gave a convulsive
leap, and pitched over; and Thad knew how much a new beginner in the
game delights in the knowledge that he has accomplished the work of
bringing down a deer unassisted.

True, the buck managed to scramble to its feet again, and run; but even
then the patrol leader held his fire, for he knew that the animal could
not go more than a hundred or two feet before it must drop.

"I rung the bell then, Thad; didn't you hear me?" almost shrieked Step
Hen, so excited that he never once thought of pumping the exploded
cartridge from the firing chamber of his repeating rifle, and sending a
fresh one in after it; and then, as the stricken buck scrambled to his
feet again, and went off at a wobbling gait the astonished and dismayed
Step Hen, who should have been prepared to send in another shot on his
own account, actually forgot that he held a rifle calculated to repeat,
and wildly besought his chum to fire.

"Oh! there he's going to get away after all, Thad!" he cried, jumping up
and down in his excitement; "why don'