He had done an amazing thing—killed a deer and a panther, both within the space of three minutes or less.
Of course Frank must have heard the several shots, and might be growing anxious about him. So Bob decided to return to camp. On the horses they could cover the intervening ground in a short time; and after that take as much of the venison along as Frank thought best.
After noting the spot so that he could easily locate it again, Bob hurried away. He found his chum looking anxiously for him; and noted the smile of relief that came upon Frank’s face as he broke cover close by.
“He got away after all that hammering, eh?” remarked the prairie lad; but in a good natured manner.
“After we start, suppose we run over that way a little,” said Bob. “It won’t take a long time; and there’s something I’d like to show you.”
“Sure,” replied Frank, as he prepared to mount. “No use asking what it is; for once you’ve made up your mind to keep a surprise, a mountain wouldn’t move you, Bob.”
First of all, Bob led him by a round-about way to where the deer lay, just as it had fallen, although Bob had stopped long enough to bleed his quarry.
“How’s that?” he asked a little proudly.
Frank jumped down, and bent over the animal. And, just as his comrade anticipated, he almost immediately exclaimed.
“Your bullet took him directly back of the foreshoulder, Bob; and must have cut into his heart. Then what in the wide world did you want to fire twice again for?”