Chet had forgotten to load the weapon.
The others were too excited to notice his discomfiture. They were running about wildly, each seeking a good view of the fugitives. Frank and Biff, noticing the direction the foxes were taking, went plunging through the snow, back toward the rim of the ravine, with the intention of heading the animals off.
Frank tripped over a hidden tree-trunk and went sprawling headlong. He lost his rifle, and while he was searching for it Biff passed him and ran on toward the gully. Chet and Joe, in the meantime, were heading toward the gully in the opposite direction.
Biff emerged at the top of the slope. He looked down into the gully, just as Frank came racing up.
“See them?” demanded Frank.
“Not yet. They must have doubled back.”
The boys looked down into the gully. The snow was white and unbroken. Suddenly, at the far end of the gully they saw a movement among the bushes. A moment later, a fox came streaking out of the thicket, followed by its mate. The animals did not see the lads watching at the top of the slope.
“Take your time, Biff,” advised Frank, as he raised the rifle to his shoulder.
The foxes were hampered by the deep snow, but even at that they were racing down the gully so quickly that the boys had to take swift aim.
Bang!