"Which makes him fifteen years old," asserted Bill. "Just look at their spread; they must be all of four feet."
"Easily," said his father. "He's the biggest buck I ever saw. Ah, here's the bullet-hole, right back of the shoulder. It certainly was a splendid shot." And as he bent closer to examine it, the others awaited his decision as to which party the trophy belonged.
"Ohio wins!" he declared at last.
"Then Tom probably got him. He's a better marksman that I am," asserted Larry.
Though the Wilder boys were naturally disappointed, they made the best of it, and Bill exclaimed:
"Come on, Larry. Let's go into the woods and search. I'm positive
I hit a deer the first time I fired. Can we go, father?"
"Surely, only don't get lost. It will take me some time to dress the two bucks. If you are not back by the time I am finished, come to the plateau. We'll wait for you there."
Promising not to wander far, the elder boys entered the woods while the others assisted in dressing the monster buck.
After skinning the animal, the ranchman cut out the most savory parts and placed them in the pelt.
"Shall we take the antlers?" asked Horace.