“Don’t do that!” cried Herbert.
But Sheldon only laughed. A bullet struck the spot of bright color and the flag fluttered a little.
“Hit it!” said Sheldon with satisfaction.
“You rascal!” cried Herbert.
Sheldon laughed again as though pleased with himself.
“I shot at that rag many times,” said he. “Off with you! March!”
When they had penetrated into the deep woods, Herbert remembered poor Joe.
“I told you that my horse is tied up there,” said he. “He can’t even crop the grass.”
“We’ll settle him,” said Sheldon. To Herbert his tone was vicious. Would they shoot the poor beast or torture him?
But Sheldon had no such cruel intention, although he lifted his gun at sight of the old animal, now restless and whinnying.