"They are gone!" murmured Roger, as his eyes discovered that the top of the hill was abandoned.
"I'll crawl forward and take a look," said Todd. "Keep quiet now, or we won't git nuthin'."
The cowboy disappeared over the top of the hill, crawling forward on his hands and knees. He was gone fully ten minutes—a time that to the boys, just then, seemed like an age. They looked to their weapons, to see that the firearms were ready for use.
Presently Dave, who was on the watch, saw Todd arise in a clump of bushes on the other side of the hilltop. He was beckoning for the boys to advance. One hand he held over his mouth, to enjoin silence.
With their hearts beating more rapidly than usual, the three young hunters wormed their way over the top of the hill and joined the cowboy. In silence Todd pointed to a distance below them. There, on a sort of cliff on the hillside, were the deer, ten in number, grazing peacefully.
"Oh, what a shot!" whispered Dave, and his eyes brightened as he swung his gun into position.
"Wait!" said Todd, in a whisper. "I'll take the one on the right. You take the one on the left."
"I'll take the one close to the tree," whispered the senator's son.
"And I'll take the one by the big rock," added Phil.
"All right," agreed the cowboy. "Now, remember, if some are only wounded, shoot at 'em again, any one of you. And be quick, for they'll streak it like greased lightning as soon as the guns go off."