“Look out!” ejaculated Shep.  “He is coming for us!”

“Give him another shot!” yelled Giant.  “My gun is empty.”

Snap took hasty aim, but the shot only struck the buck in the side.  Then the beast came on, with lowered antlers, as if to pin Snap against a tree.

At that moment Whopper fired, hitting the buck in the right foreleg.  Down went the animal, but struggled up a moment later and tried to leap into the brushwood where Shep was concealed.

As he came down over the doctor’s son, the boy was badly frightened and gave the buck a shove with his hand.  Weak from loss of blood the beast fell over.  Then Shep struck him a blow over the head with the gun stock and Giant finished him with a shot at close range.  In the meantime the other deer that had been mortally wounded was put out of its misery; and then the short but sharp contest came to an end.

“What a haul!” ejaculated Snap, as he reloaded his weapon.  “This is something to make town folks stare!”

“We must send some of the deer home,” put in Whopper.

“Yes, yes!” cried the others.

It was with tremendous pride that the four young hunters looked the game over.  The deer were young and tender, and the buck had a fine head, fit for mounting.

“This haul will open the eyes of the Spink crowd,” remarked Whopper.

“If they weren’t so mean we might send them some venison,” said Shep.

“They wouldn’t thank you for it,” broke in Giant.  “They are too high-toned for that sort of thing.”

With so much game the boys hardly knew what to do.  The deer were heavy and it was all two of them cared to do carrying one between them, hung from a pole.

“Well, we have got to get them to the lake somehow,” said Snap.  “So the sooner we get at the job the better.  Don’t grumble.”

“Grumble?” shouted Shep.  “Why, I feel like singing.”  And he broke into a merry whistle.

They took the deer down to the lake in three trips.  It made them pant to climb over some of the rocks, and when the job was done they were all out of breath.

“Have you fellows noticed how the wind is rising?” remarked Giant, as he paused to wipe the perspiration from his forehead.

“Yes,” answered Shep.  “We are surely fixing for a storm.”

“By the way, Shep,” came from Snap, “don’t you wish you had shot a turkey instead of the deer?”

“Don’t say turkeys,” replied the doctor’s son, reproachfully.  They had brought the deer close to the spot where the rowboat had been tied up, and now Whopper went to get the craft.  Soon he returned in anxiety.

“Didn’t we tie up here?” he questioned.

“Certainly,” answered Giant.

“The boat is gone.”

“Gone!” came from all of the others.

“Yes.”

A rush was made for the lake front, and they gazed in blank amazement at the spot where the craft had been left.